<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Beyond the Stars by AcrylicMist</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27501580">Beyond the Stars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcrylicMist/pseuds/AcrylicMist'>AcrylicMist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Homestuck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Alternate Universe - Space, Alternia is Terrible, Apocalypse, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Genocide, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Multi, Revolution, Violence, War</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 02:53:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,851</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27501580</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcrylicMist/pseuds/AcrylicMist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hollywood had it wrong. The end of the world can be a slow thing. It never happens all at once.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>101</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>New thing! I'm still working on updating everything else but I've had this draft sitting in the notes section of my phone for a while now so its time to share it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dave doesn’t know how it starts, and he’s not thinking about how it’ll end. </p><p>When he’s young, the words are ‘<em>refugees, immigrants</em>’ and Alternians are little more than gray-skinned children running scared from an angry parent. Dave doesn’t understand yet that there’s more to the story, only that his school will dock a ship full of troll refugees as fellow students as part of their cultural exchange. </p><p>Dave’s young, only 10, but he knows bullshit when he hears it. The ships are full of scared kids his age, the refuse and rabble of a civilization that didn’t mind losing a few thousand unsavory members. There’s a caste system apparently, and these newcomers make up the bottom part in overwhelming numbers. </p><p>There’s lessons beforehand about trolls. Dave doodles in his notebook and doesn’t pay attention to the instructor. The words ‘bloodcolor’ and ‘psychic abilities’ reach him in a distant way as he makes up rap lyrics and sketches badly drawn crows along the margins of his paper. The existence of the aliens doesn’t bother him the way it does the adults. But Dave has sat on a rooftop looking up at the stars too many nights to be surprised by what he knew as a certainty. He’s never once looked up at the sky without knowing there was life up there, somewhere, so when the ships first appeared he’d taken it in stride. </p><p>The teacher drones on with the lesson. There’s other lessons he’s thinking about as the teacher talks, lessons about how to best act to make sure Bro doesn’t notice him, and lessons on how to dodge if he does. </p><p>Dave’s good at these lessons. He gets faster every day, smarter. Maybe soon he’ll be fast and smart enough to avoid Bro altogether, but the bruises hidden under his sleeves say he has a lot left to learn. </p><p>He isn’t doodling when they actually bring in a troll— a real live alien, gray skin and sharp teeth and all. She’s wearing a scowl more than anything else Dave can notice, speaks English like she’s threatening grammar itself and there’s a clicking, buggy accent to her words. There’s glasses on her face, covering eyes a blank, burnt-out red. She names herself Terezi. </p><p>After that, there’s more. A hundred trolls flood the school, too many to know, to name. Dave spends his time mostly ignoring them outside of class. It isn’t hard to. The trolls stick together, chattering away in their strange language that hurts his ears. </p><p>It happens during lunch hour, three hundred humans and over a three dozen trolls crammed together to have at it in a social crucible disguised as mealtime. There’s all shapes of horns and colors to their hatchsigns, but mostly the rusts, the yellows, the browns. One is bending spoons in the corner with brainpower alone, drawing a crowd of human admirers. The trolls roll eyes at what to them is a parlor trick. Dave’s still impressed though. </p><p>The sound of it is what draws him in. A fight. That classic, rising tide of childhood excitement that accompanies schoolyard violence. Dave might not know much in life besides how to take a punch, but somehow seeing this new troll feels worse than getting hit by Bro. </p><p>He’s short, for one, and yelling at the top of his lungs in broken half-English, every other word a curse. He’s impossible to ignore. The troll is angry, seething, claws out and blunt teeth bared in a snarl. “You fucking morons! What shit did you eat for breakfood to justify the shit you just projectile vomited out your mouth in my direction! I’ll kill you!” The rest of the threat dissolves into Alternian, but Dave doesn’t need to speak the language to know it’s every bit as scathing. </p><p>The threats are aimed at a pair of bigger trolls, both greens, both with a familiar look of cruelty in their grayed-out eyes. The short troll snarls threateningly at them, but Dave can read him enough to see the fear that lies beneath the bluster. His back’s to the cinderblock wall. His eyes are wide, flashing yellows like a cornered animal, and when he lashes out it’s out of fear and hurt and not rage for all that his screams sound angry. There’s green beneath his claws, but he’s cornered and outnumbered and that desperate look in his terrified eyes speaks to Dave. </p><p>He doesn’t stop to think before throwing himself headlong into the fight. Dave can scrap with the best of them, and it’s a schoolyard brawl for the ages. Another green joins the attackers, and suddenly Dave and Shorty are fighting side-by-side. It’s a thrill to battle something knowing he might win, and somehow, they win, Dave sporting new bruises but with a grin on his face. His nose is bloody and he can see the troll staring at it in wonder as the greens run off up the hall. The other kids are still chanting “fight fight fight,” loud enough to drown out the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears. </p><p>He holds out his hand once the dust settles. “I’m Dave.” </p><p>The troll is still staring at him, squinting at the offered hand like he’s suspicious it’ll bite. “Karkat,” he says, and it’s foreign and clicky enough it takes Dave a second to realize it’s a name. The troll’s still staring at the blood that drips from Dave’s hurt nose. </p><p>He nods, but by then the teachers are there, dragging the students apart and zeroing in on Dave’s busted face, the three greens telling sweet lies in their ears. </p><p>Dave doesn’t give a shit about the detention or the broken nose. It’s a mark he’ll wear with pride. It’s different for Karkat though. The teachers say things like ‘difficulty adjusting’ and ‘too violent’ and ‘more structured environment’, and the troll is packed off to alternative school before Dave can say another word to him. </p><p>It’s over a year before he sees the troll again. </p><p>... </p><p>It’s been a year and Dave’s nose has healed slightly crooked. He’s picked up a few Alternian words, mostly swears, and Terezi sits with him every day at lunch. The girl’s blind but can sniff out the bruises on an apple from five feet away. Dave knows she can probably smell the places where Bro’s latest strikes broke skin to leave thick scabs behind, but as always she says nothing. It’s one of the reasons why Dave loves her. </p><p>She’s cackling to herself, typing away on that handheld device all trolls carried, chatting with another troll. Dave snoops a glance at the screen but it’s all colored gibberish to him. Saying fuck in alien is different from reading it, and Dave never picked up that particular talent. </p><p>“You’re going to love him,” Terezi tells him this like he has no choice but to comply. “I’ve known this one for sweeps! He was even on the ship with me. We go way back.”</p><p>Terezi liked to introduce him to other trolls she knows. Dave isn’t sure why. Most are okay enough. Aradia and her chill clashed with Dave’s chill in a way that inspired nothing productive, Tavros was pretty dope actually even if his rapping made Dave want to weep at the butchery of his art, and there was another troll Terezi raved about, an old friend, a yellow who wasn’t in school at all, who was too important for such things. The mastermind behind the troll’s exodus <em>and</em> a powerful psionic to boot. Hearing Terezi rave about Sollux Captor, Dave half thought the troll could shit gold bricks on command. </p><p>This new troll must be different though. With the rest she’s been loud, boisterous for days beforehand because Terezi wore her excitement as manic glee and lacked patience otherwise. </p><p>Dave raised one unimpressed eyebrow, digging a fork into an orange just because he knew she liked the citrus scent it produced. “Who?”</p><p>“You’ll see,” she gushes, licking the air in his direction. “In fact, I’ve set it up so that he’ll be in science class with us!”</p><p>Dave rolls his eyes and continues to mangle the fruit in his hands for Terezi’s enjoyment. That’s another thing that’s wrong. Terezi’s never sprung someone on him with so little warning. He tries, but he can’t read her expression. The juice drips down his hands, sticky. </p><p>... </p><p>Science class is a joke. Attempting to teach the water cycle to kids that engineered and flew spacecraft is a laughable offense from the start, so like always Dave stays by Terezi in the back. </p><p>“You could get a dog,” he says, poking her arm with a pencil. She swats him away with amazing precision. “I’m serious. Just play up the blind girl act to the right person and bam! Instant dog, in class and everything.” He spreads his hands like the words were a gift. “You should thank me.” </p><p>She licks his palm instead, momentarily distracted from her task of sniffing out which chemicals to make the biggest fire the fastest. Terezi always had hated labs. “A woofbeast? Why would I want one of those? It’s not even a proper lusus.”</p><p>“A chihuahua,” Dave declares proudly, prodding her again, bored. It’s a conversation they’ve had before. “A vicious little ankle biter, that’s what you need.” </p><p>Her laugh always sounds like it should hurt, raw and scratchy, but he’s come to like the harsh noise. There’s a human version of Trollian that’s come out, Pesterchum, and he types away under his desk at the app. It’s one of the few ‘technological advances’ the trolls promised on arrival, and it’s a piece of shit. Rose is online, so he pesters her with utter bullshit until Terezi gasps and grabs his arm tight enough to hurt. “He’s here!”</p><p>Dave looks up, and lo and behold it’s a short troll with blunt teeth and nubby horns. He’s got his arms crossed like shields across his chest and he’s already scowling. It doesn’t look like he’s grown an inch since Dave saw him last. </p><p>Terezi waves him over with glee. “Karkat!”</p><p>The troll walks over, still scowling. The expression doesn’t leave his face until he makes eye contact with Dave, then it freezes in place as recognition floods his gray eyes. A slow grin creeps up one side of his mouth. </p><p>Dave returns the look, secretly pleased that the troll remembered him. </p><p>Karkat shoves his backpack higher up one shoulder before falling into the empty desk beside Dave and Terezi. His grin grows wider. “I’m pleased to see you still looking like a delinquent, Dave. No wonder Terezi won’t shut up about you.” His English has gotten better, but there’s still a rasp to it, a buggy click that most trolls can make sound musical or like roughened silk, but Karkat just sounds scratchy. </p><p>It’s good. Authentic. </p><p>Dave shrugs, secretly pleased as he turned to Terezi, faking exasperation. “Man, girl, you never told me you were friends with the troll I got my nose broke for.” </p><p>Karkat scoffs, but he’s still grinning. “That was <em>not</em> my fucking fault.”</p><p>Class has started but Dave’s not paying attention. The back of the room shields him enough to talk. He extends his fist to the troll. “I hope you learned to fight sometime in the last year. Only kids who can throw a punch are allowed to hang with us.”</p><p>Karkat considers him, then reaches out to bump knuckles with him in rough agreement. “Don’t worry, I did.” </p><p>Terezi laughs like a jet engine taking off. </p><p>... </p><p>There’s a two year grace period before the end of the world begins. Dave isn’t sure if it starts here or at that first meeting, but those two years cement it in place. </p><p>After all this time, he’s still not sure why. He has other friends. Human ones. Rose, who he jokingly calls <em>sister</em> both behind her back and to her face, a girl equally as scary as Terezi but in a different way. John, who claims the role of best friend and guards it with good-natured jealousy against Terezi, lamenting that his job would be easier if he lived in Texas and not Washington. Jade, his even more distant bestie who was as lovingly eccentric as any troll and was the only human his age who understood things like space travel and time relative to light years traveled. </p><p>Up against genius like that, Karkat only really stands out because he’s loud enough no one can ignore him. He’s rough around the edges, brash, and moves with clumsy confidence like he has no idea what he’s doing but is determined to act like he does. It’s a different kind of mask than the one Dave wears, but like recognizes like. </p><p>Still, the realization happens slowly. </p><p>They spend every school day together, scheming to make sure they share classes and occupy neighboring desks. They flick notes back and forth behind the teacher’s back. They exchange trollian/pesterchum handles to keep in touch out of class, which matters because trolls don’t give out their handles to just anyone. It took Dave months to gain Terezi’s trust enough for hers, and yet Karkat hands his eagerly over within a week. </p><p>Dave and Karkat talk a lot. It’s mostly bullshit and back and forth bravado. There’s never much meaning behind it. </p><p>
  <span class="dave">TG: so like i was saying mrs peters class is so easy i could sleep my way through the final exam and still ace it idk what your fucking problem is with english 101<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: EVERYTHING! NOTHING ABOUT YOUR FEEBLE HUMAN LITERATURE COMES CLOSE TO THE MASTERPIECES THAT INHABIT ALTERNIAN SAGAS AND HOW YOUR SCHOOLFEEDERS FAWN AND RAVE OVER SUCH HOOFBEAST SHIT IS ENOUGH TO MAKE ME PHYSICALLY ILL.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: THIS ROMEO AND JULIET BULLSHIT WOULD NEVER HAVE HAPPENED ON ALTERNIA! HOW IS DYING TOGETHER SUPPOSED TO BE BEAUTIFUL?<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: beats me but i still know enough about the concept of dying tragically young well enough to write a bomb ass essay on the subject<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: AGHHHH!!! </span></span></span></span></span>
</p><p>Karkat’s grayed-out text and missing hatchsign should have been a hint, but Dave was desperate enough to ignore the warning signs. By the time he realized that yellow text he saw Karkat bothering and linked it back to Captor— it was too late. It was too late even when he saw the fuchsia that joined it, a rich, royal tyrian. Peixes. The rouge princess of their kind, and too high up the blood color totem pole for the likes of a shouty troll like Karkat who’s horns were small and rounded enough to fit below a ballcap. </p><p>All these little hints and Dave still doesn’t figure it out. </p><p>By the end of that first year, Dave could admit he was crushing hard on his friend but didn’t act on it. Troll romance was a complicated thing and he didn’t want to dance the foursquares until he knew where he stood. </p><p>Terezi was surprisingly no help at all. In fact, she actively resisted helping Dave figure this out, teasing him with this glint in her blind eyes that Dave couldn’t help but read as fear. </p><p>He called her a hypocrite since she was forever waxing pale on Sollux but she just shook her head at him, solemn. “You don’t understand,” she told him. “Not him.” Her claws poke holes into the wood of her desk as she spoke, knuckles ashy with the strain. </p><p>Whatever nerve he’d hit, Dave clearly didn’t understand. “Why not?”</p><p>Terezi clicks at him, something short and buzzing that wasn’t english. </p><p>“No fair,” Dave complains. “You can tell me. I can keep a secret.” </p><p>“If I tell you,” Terezi said slowly. “I’d have to kill you.” </p><p>It wasn’t a joke. There was no accompanying cicada’s laugh. Her gray face was grave and serious. Dave felt a hint of true uncertainty. “Terezi, what the fuck?”</p><p>“Don’t ask me again!” Terezi snaps and the wood under her claws splinters. She scrambles for control, playing the outburst off. “Your blood would be annoying to clean up.”</p><p>Dave says nothing. He’s thinking hard but coming up blank. There’s too much he doesn’t know. But he knows there’s something up, something about Karkat specifically, and that his troll friends are all in on it and for whatever reason have decided to exclude him. </p><p>Dave’s deeply offended but hides it well. He’s used to hiding how he feels but never from Terezi. The realization makes him sick. </p><p>“You don’t trust me,” Dave states, and it comes out as a fact rather than a question. </p><p>Terezi’s headshake is imperceptible. “This isn’t about trust,” she says, and the conversation ends there. </p><p>All night long, Dave wonders what this mess is about if trust can’t factor into it. He remembers the fear on her face and he doesn’t sleep well. It’s another year before he dares to ask again because he believes the troll girl may gut him if he does. Terezi is his friend but she’s still a troll. She still had to be taught that human friendship didn’t involve murder. </p><p>That last year is tense. Dave’s thirteen now and growing stupid with it, old enough to think he knew better than anyone else and still miring through his crush on Karkat, which has only grown stronger over time. In his mind they’re all but official, because it’s not like Karkat doesn’t clumsily flirt back. Together they tease Terezi mercilessly for all but throwing diamonds at Sollux until they come out as official. The celebratory lunch for the new moirails is the first time Dave’s met the yellow in person, a tall, weedy figure with enough heat cooking in his brain to fry a circuit board. Dave is suitably impressed and proud that Terezi managed to snag a troll so high up the social ladder in the new world the trolls were trying to create, and the psionic feats Sollux had achieved only added to the allure. </p><p>That wasn’t enough to stop Dave from needling at the troll, but Sollux snaps back with appropriate fire and snark that Dave judges that he’s good enough for Terezi. Watching her verbally berate the yellow with all but tiny diamonds floating around her head sweetens the pot, and Sollux joins Dave’s growing group of friends. </p><p>Watching Sollux and Karkat interact is like watching a play where all the actors are speaking a different language. Unsurprisingly, they’d known each other very well on Alternia and each time Dave is with them together is like third wheeling with whatever he’s not allowed to know. It’s even more frustrating because Sollux won’t let him in on whatever project he’s always obsessed with working on, even when he eagerly enlists Karkat to help. </p><p>Dave tries not to let the exclusion get to him, but it itches like a splinter beneath his skin and every passing day digs it in a little bit deeper. </p><p>…</p><p>It’s after school. Dave is hiding from Bro’s wrath in his room, mixing inelegant beats on his new turntables and working on the first part of a shitty webcomic he plans on fucking around with when he gets he messages on his cellphone.</p><p>They’re from Karkat.</p><p>
  <span class="karkat">CG: DAVE? ARE YOU THERE?</span>
</p><p>He answers back immediately.</p><p>
  <span class="dave">TG: yeah whassup?</span>
</p><p>The opening is all wrong. Karkat’s normal greeting is an aggressive infodump in all caps, not this tentative questioning. </p><p>The next message confirms his unease. </p><p>
  <span class="karkat">CG: CAN I TRUST YOU?</span>
</p><p>Dave doesn’t have to think about his reply.</p><p>
  <span class="dave">TG: always<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: OKAY.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: DON’T TELL TEREZI OF SOLLUX OR FEFERI OR ANYONE ELSE THAT I TOLD YOU THIS, DO YOU SWEAR?</span></span></span>
</p><p>Dave swears it with his heartbeat drumming in his ears. </p><p>
  <span class="dave">TG: i swear. no one else will know<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: OKAY.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: WELL, UH,<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: YOU KNOW HOW—<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: SHIT! FUCKSHIT FUCK! I CAN’T DO IT LIKE THIS, I CAN’T LEAVE A PAPER TRAIL OR ELSE SOLLUX /WILL/ FIND OUT.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: CAN YOU MEET WITH ME? TONIGHT? I NEED TO SEE YOU. </span></span></span></span></span></span>
</p><p>Dave doesn’t breathe.</p><p>
  <span class="dave">TG: yes<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: shoot me the address and ill be there soon</span></span>
</p><p>Karkat sends him the link. Dave screenshots it as he grabs his backpack and grits his teeth. </p><p>He knows he’ll get beat for this, but the pain will be worth it if it means finding out what his friends have been hiding. He’s out the door and down the hall before Bro can stop him. The entire time Dave’s nerves are jangling at a fast pace. He’s never broke curfew like this before, never disobeyed a direct order from Bro. The thrill of the rule breaking is almost heady as the freedom it offers. </p><p>He’s never really been out on the city at night. The streets are dark but brilliantly lit, the orange smog of the sky a roof above him as low-flying clouds dip between the skyscrapers. Downtown it’s almost too bright to be dark out, but here in the residentials the city retains its darkness like a shroud.</p><p>It’s easy to catch a cab. It’s more difficult to find one willing to take him to the troll encampment at the city’s edge, but some of the precious money out of his secret cash hoard does wonders to convince the driver. Another $20 goes to buy the guy’s silence for the duration of the ride. </p><p>It’s at least a thirty minute drive. Dave’s fingers tap nervous rhythms against his knee. He half expects the driver to carry him to the nearest child welfare house because his whole look screams preteen runaway, but the cab takes the trip truly. It’s amazing what money can do. </p><p>The trolls are under curfew as well, enforced by the city since they’re all parentless and only thirteen in human years. Karkat meets him at the gate anyway. The encampment behind him is clean and dark, without a single light to it. The troll’s pupils are wide when he greets Dave, swallowing up the scant starlight with ease. “Dave.”</p><p>“Hey,” Dave answers back. “You wanted to see me?” He does not ask what’s wrong but something clearly is. </p><p>Karkat sinks to the ground right there on the bare concrete and puts his hands around his knees. Dave sits beside him. The pavement is chill and slightly damp. He shivers. </p><p>“I don’t know how to start,” Karkat admits. He’s not looking at Dave. “How much do you know about us?”</p><p>Dave’s mind is full of the code words the system taught him, refugees, immigrants, but he remembers a time when the words had been invaders, <em>enemy </em>, before the ships had opened and scared children poured out. He knows they were running from something. “I know that I trust you,” he answers. “Whatever’s going on, let me help.”</p><p>Karkat shivers beside him, but the troll never gets cold. “It’s about Alternia, about the empire,” he says. “About us hiding here on earth. About why we did it… and about me.”</p><p>Dave has a feeling these are secrets not even the government knows, and he’s seen them hound Sollux for answers enough to know that. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“It was Sollux’s idea, the stupid bastard,” Karkat says this with a growl embedded in his voice. “Terezi helped with the logistics of it, but the actual plan was Sollux’s. And then Feferi jumped on the bandwagon with us taking everyone who wanted to leave the planet before Ascension because of her bleeding pumpbiscuit, and too soon we’re leading a fleet of 5 sweep old runaways across the stars on a fool’s dream, and now it’s just us trying to lead nearly five thousand trolls into a future that none of us knows will actually fucking happen.” Karkat scoffs, growling. “We were stupid and we weren’t thinking much beyond how to prolong our own shitty lives.”</p><p>Dave blinks behind his shades. “I don’t understand.”</p><p>“The Empire shouldn’t care about a few thousand missing lowbloods and a handful of midbloods. But they will. I know they will.” Karkat explained. He hugs himself tighter. “If they figure out we ran instead of just getting murdered on-planet, the very least the Empire will do is assassinate Feferi before she turns seven and probably Eridan too for being such an ugly fucking caste traitor, and that’s the best case scenario”</p><p>Dave is instantly uneasy. “What’s the worst case scenario?” </p><p>Karkat bites his lip. His teeth are blunt but strong. Dave can’t stop staring at them. Karkat doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t need to. Dave knows what the consequences will be for him running away tonight. He can only imagine how much worse it’ll be for the trolls. </p><p>They sit side-by-side for a while. Dave at last ventures, “My dad beats me,” he says simply. “He beats the living shit out of me. He’s broken bones before. The chances that I’ll live long enough to move out on my own are laughable.” He looks at Karkat, whose head had snapped up to stare at him. “I understand what it’s like to know the adults in your life want you dead.”</p><p>Karkat is staring at him like he’s peeling back Dave’s face to see what’s written inside his skull. “You could run,” he says like he doesn’t believe it. </p><p>“He’d come after me,” Dave explains, shaking his head. “Running won’t help me any more than it’s helped you.” He looks at Karkat, seeing him bathed in the faint light as if for the first time. “It really was you, wasn’t it? The entire exodus plan. It was you and Sollux and Terezi and Feferi.”</p><p>Karkat nods cautiously, like he’s scared the movement will scare him away. “There were twelve of us who planned it, originally,” Karkat said. “All of us slated for death by the Empire. Aradia and Sollux would have been helmsmen.  Tavros, Vriska, and Terezi culled for disabilities. Nepeta for refusing to submit to the hemospectrum at all and Equius for supporting her. Kanaya for abandoning the calling of her caste. Gamzee for being hiveshit maggots half the time and ranting about gods and magnets, and Feferi for being the heiress and Eridan too because he can’t live in a world without her in it. We were all going to die and we knew it, so we ran.”</p><p>There’s a moment of silence. “Holy shit,” Dave says.</p><p>Karkat continues solemnly. His claws scrap along the rough pavement. “It was only supposed to be us who ran, but word got out and suddenly half the continent wanted to leave but we could only reprogram a few of the Ascension vessels to steal otherwise the empire would have found out sooner, so we only stole who we could carry, those like Tavros who wouldn’t survive until Ascension on his own otherwise.” Karkat’s voice is heartbreaking in it’s guilt. “But it wasn’t enough. We left hundreds behind to die, and thousands more who’ll have to face Ascension Day.”</p><p>Dave’s heard the term before but doesn’t really know what it means. But that’s not what he asks. “You left your name out of that list,” he points out. “Why do they want you dead?”</p><p>Karkat shrinks in on himself. He doesn’t answer. </p><p>Dave is thinking very hard. Whatever Karkat’s sins are, he doesn’t care. “How long do you have?” </p><p>Karkat shrugs miserably. “Maybe less than a sweep. Once the Empire readies itself for Ascension Day, they’ll discover the missing ships even if no one on-planet betrays us, which is a certainty in any case.”</p><p>“So then?”</p><p>“It’s borrowed time,” Karkat explains, gesturing around him. “All of this? This dream of peace here on this planet? It’ all borrowed fucking time.” He digs his claws into the concrete, a scraping squeal. “We’re still going to die.”</p><p>Dave leans into him, offering a silent support. Karkat accepts without hesitation, and he is a burning furnace at Dave’s chilled side. They sit together for a moment. Dave is burning up with all the words he isn’t brave enough to say. </p><p>Dave says, “Everybody fucking dies.” Karkat looks at him, his face only a few inches away. Dave continues. “We all die. That’s not what matters. What matters is what we do before that.” He stares back at the troll, at the literal alien before him and asks. “So, Karkat, what do you plan on doing before you die?”</p><p>Karkat’s slow smile is nearly identical to the first one he shared with Dave, except this one is edged with the promise of violence. “Me? I’m going to fight.”</p><p>They stay like that, side by side as the night passes quietly around them. They don’t say anything else. When the sun rises the next morning Dave joins the troll bus to the school, and when he returns to his apartment that afternoon Bro gets creative with his punishments. Dave nurses a broken hand that night as he outlines the end of the first chapter of his comic. The extra shake the injury adds to his pen only highlights the ironic beauty of the thing. </p><p>Dave is thirteen years old at the beginning of the end of the world, but for tonight he draws shitty comics and pesters Karkat on Pesterchum like that night in the dark wasn’t the first spark onto dry tinder, words of treason and promise that Dave doesn’t yet understand the meaning of. </p><p>It’s not for another year that the first message arrives from space. It’s from the Alternian Empire, all but postmarked by the HIC herself in all her Tyrion glory, like there might have been another alien empire out there beefing with Earth and the sender needed clarification to get the message across. The communication itself is simple. The world-wide chaos it causes is not. </p><p>
  <span class="feferi">I’m coming for you beac)(---Es.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Rising Tide</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I totally planned for this to be in three parts but now it's grown too big so i had to break it up send help</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The change is swift and immediate for all that it’s in the wrong direction. </p><p>The world panics. All trolls are put on lockdown for three months while world governments try to figure out what to do. Different politicians and celebrities hedge their viewpoints on Twitter and light up the comments sections with impassioned speeches about why or why not the planet needs to evict their suddenly unwelcome houseguests. It’s a free for all. </p><p>Dave misses his troll friends. He feels Terezi’s absence at school like an ache in his chest. The classroom is too quiet without her. His whole life is too quiet now. His apartment is silent when Bro’s not raging about the place drunk off his ass, and for all that Dave pesters Karkat daily he misses the troll at his side. </p><p>But there’s not much one broke ass 14 year old can do to sway the opinions of world leaders, so while Terezi, Sollux, and the rest of the twelve argue their case before a hastily drawn up court of law, Dave spends his time in lock down perfecting his art skills in the worst possible way. He’s quickly realized the only way to make people care about the utter shit he produces is to only make it look like shit on the surface. The characters are deep for all that they’re shallow, the world is rich for all that it’s fake, and the art is consistent for all that it’s shit. The lock down helps—people begin to flock to his overburdened little website domain, desperate for a little light, meaningless brevity. They don’t know what kind of story Dave is planning on telling, and to him that’s the best part. </p><p>Dave only really tells John about the comic. Telling Karkat feels too close somehow, and telling Rose would be an invitation for a free psych lesson that he’s actively trying to avoid. John thinks the idea of Dave making a comic is funny but doesn’t really understand any of the humor Dave’s using. He still complements Dave’s work when he sends his friend the next chapter to proofread, which in itself is hilarious because every other word is intentionally misspelled. He’s basically emailed John the equivalent of an existential pipe bomb wrapped in bad grammar and shitty clip art and asked him to find the meaning in it when Dave doesn’t plan on adding anything approaching a plot until after chapter four. John sends back some bullshit editing suggestions like ‘please make the colors less saturated my eyes are bleeding’ and ‘what kind of name is Hella Jeff’ which Dave ignores. The negative feedback means he’s on the right track. </p><p>His follower count climbs higher by the day as Dave churns out new content on a daily basis. There’s a story he wants to tell but right now he’s just fucking around. It’s fun, nothing more. </p><p>The courts drag on forever and it’s all under a media blackout. Even Karkat is tight-lipped about it, but Dave can sense his frustration through his short messages. To Dave the answer is simple because child murder is bad, and Earth shouldn’t be complicit in child murder because turning over the Alternian refugees means death. Politicians don’t quite see things that way though, and the battle drags on for months. </p><p>He asks Karkat about it but receives only silence in return as the days pass, and then something changes. Something breaks, though Dave doesn’t know what. </p><p>He gets a message from Karkat. It’s nothing but indistinguishable gibberish to him until Sollux sends him the key to the code and the chatroom adds him immediately. </p><p>He notices the colors first and that’s about it. The text is all in the aggressively pointy font of Alternian and he doesn’t understand anything that’s going on even as the teal text begins spamming new words as he watches. Then, another miracle from Sollux. Even better, it’s in English. </p><p>
  <span class="sollux">TA: quiiet down, QUIIET DOWN! Englii2h plea2e you iincon2iiderate fuck2—ii ju2t added dave two the chatroom.</span>
</p><p>There’s a few more moments of Alternian gibberish in a full rainbow spread of colors, trolls Dave’s never even talked to before lighting up his inbox before order is reached.</p><p>The text slants itself into English with abrupt grace, and even if he can now read the words on his screen that doesn’t mean Dave knows what’s going on. Terezi is still spamming at the speed of light. </p><p>
  <span class="terezi">GC: 1’M T3LL1NG Y0U GUY2 TH3Y 4R3 N0T G01NG T0 G0 F0R 1T. TH3R3’2 T00 M4NY V4R14BL32 W1TH UNF4VOR1BL3 0UTC0M3S—TH3 HUM4NS KN0W TH12 4ND TH3Y W1LL CH00SE TH3 S4F32T P4THW4Y F0R TH3M23LV32 3V3N 1F 1T FUCK2 U2 OV3R R0Y4LLY.<br/>
<span class="terezi">GC: W3’R3 N0T G01NG T0 C0NV1NC3 TH3M T0 L3T U2 2T4Y 4ND TH3 2H1PS W3 4RR1V3D 1N W1LL N0T C4RRY U2 0UT 0F TH12 20L4R2Y2T3M, N0T T0 3V3N 24Y 4 24F3 D12T4NC3 4W4Y FR0M TH3 H1C.<br/>
<span class="terezi">GC: TH3 HUM4N2 4R3 G01NG T0 FUCK U2. W3’D B3TT3R 2T4RT PR3P4R1NG F0R TH4T 1N3V1T4B1L1TY N0W.<br/>
<span class="terezi">GC: 0H, 4ND H1 D4V3!<br/>
<span class="vriska">AG: remind me why having a dumb human take part in our supposed to 8e serious important fate of our species conversa8ion wasn’t shot down immediately? Who’s pan up and died to make that decision?<br/>
<span class="vriska">AG: was it you, sollux?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: NO, IT WAS MY IDEA SO DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT STARTING SHIT ABOUT IT!<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: AS THINGS STAND WE ARE GOING TO LOSE THE STUPID COURT CASE AND THE HUMANS WILL GIVE US THE BOOT REGARDLESS OF THE FACT THAT WE CAN’T EVEN MAKE IT OFF PLANET ANYMORE. THEY’RE TOO STUPID TO UNDERSTAND THAT WE CAN’T FUCKING GO ANYWHERE ELSE! WE’RE STUCK HERE AND THEY ARE STUCK HERE WITH US FOR WORSE OR FOR WORSE! I INVITED DAVE BECAUSE, AS A HUMAN, I WAS HOPING THAT HE COULD TRY TO HELP US UNDERSTAND WHAT THE OTHER HUMANS ARE THINKING SO THAT WE CAN BETTER PLAN OUR NEXT STEP.<br/>
<span class="aradia">AA: i literally d0 n0t care ab0ut having a human ar0und. maybe he can be useful?<br/>
<span class="nepeta">AC: :33 &lt; besides i've b33n waiting to m33t him! the thr33 of you have b33n hiding this dave human from us &lt;:(<br/>
<span class="equius">CT: D --&gt; i agree. perhaps this human's STRONG opinions will be helpful in this riddle<br/>
<span class="eridan">CA: wwell i for one am not taking shit from a stupid alien landdwweller. kar, you knoww this is a wwhaleshit movve. wwhat can wwe possibly gain from it aside from more pan-splitting migraines<br/>
<span class="eridan">CA: its been months. the humans wwill nevver understand.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: CAN YOU ALL CAN IT FOR ONE FUCKING SECOND?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: LISTEN. I KNOW MOST OF YOU DON’T KNOW DAVE BUT ME, TEREZI AND SOLLUX DO. WE TRUST HIM. I TRUST HIM. IF HE CAN HELP WHY NOT LET HIM? WE MIGHT AS WELL CULL OURSELVES RIGHT FUCKING NOW IF WE’RE DEAD SET ON IGNORING THE CHANCE TO ACTUALLY FIGURE SOMETHING OUT FOR ONCE INSEAD OF QUIBBLING AROUND LIKE MOON-DRUNK MORONS ON FIFTH PERIGEES EVE. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>
</p><p>Just because the words were in English didn’t make the thing any easier to read. He thought that Terezi’s typing was just her trying to be cool but now it seems like every troll has a similar idea. But Dave isn’t fucking stupid. He knows what they are arguing about. </p><p>It was time for his grand entrance.</p><p>
  <span class="dave">TG: lets put a quick pin in the anti human tirade thats going on to address a few things real fast<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: yo wassup im dave and i know literally nothing about whats going on right now except that karkat said he trusts me and i trust his judgement to trust me ironic as that is so lets see what i can do to help. lay it on me. let me be your guinea pig human</span></span>
</p><p>The response is immediate.</p><p>
  <span class="karkat">CG: SEE? IT’S NOT THAT FUCKING HARD TO GET WITH THE PROGRAM EVERYBODY. IF DAVE CAN FOCUS ON THE TASK AT HAND THEN I EXPECT THE SAME FROM YOU.<br/>
<span class="gamzee">TC: Uh, I dOn'T kNoW aBoUt AlL tHiS fOcUsInG nOnSeNsE. iT aIn'T sIt RiGhT iN mY pAn, YoU kNoW? aDdInG aNoThEr VoIcE tO tHe MiX jUsT mAkEs ThInGs MoRe CoNfUsInG :0(<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: THEN I WILL BREAK IT DOWN STEP BY FUCKING STEP FOR YOU LATER, OKAY? JUST TRY TO KEEP UP FOR NOW.<br/>
<span class="vriska">AG: oh so the goddamn clown gets a free pass 8ut us trolls with actual functioning 8rains are stuck doing all the heavy lifting?<br/>
<span class="terezi">GC: 1 DON'T KNOW, VR1SK4. 1F YOU'R3 G3TT1NG T1R3D OF C4RRY1NG TH3 F4T3 OF OUR K1ND ON YOUR B4CK 1M SUR3 D4V3 W1LL B3 GL4D TO T4K3 OV3R FOR YOU. M4YB3 H3 W1LL 4CTU4LLY B3 COMP3T3NT 3NOUGH TO DO YOUR JOB FOR YOU, YOU FUCK1NG FR33LO4D3R.<br/>
<span class="vriska">AG: DON'T YOU PULL THE 8LIND GIRL CARD ON ME! i apologized, 8idn't i?<br/>
<span class="sollux">TA: iit2 tiime2 liike thii2 when ii regret not leaviing your a22 behiind on alterniia. iif any of u2 de2erved our eventual bloody demii2e, iit'2 you<br/>
<span class="aradia">AA: sec0nded.<br/>
<span class="vriska">AG: you a8lest fuckers<br/>
<span class="tavros">AT: vIRSKA, uH, i DONT THINK YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO CALL ANYONE ABELIST, cONSIDERING THE FACT THAT YOU DID, iN FACT, pARALYZE ME,<br/>
<span class="vriska">AG: 8ut did I EVER hold that against you?<br/>
<span class="tavros">AT: uH, YES?</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>
</p><p>Dave blinks at the plethora of borderline soap-opera levels of angsty backstory he just learned. He doesn’t know most of the names he’s hearing, but now is not the time for putting names with text colors in some ever-lengthening list of who tried to kill who. </p><p>Thankfully it looks like Karkat agrees with Dave’s train of thought, and the conversation plows on. </p><p>
  <span class="karkat">CG: SHUT UP!!!! EVERYONE JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! ARGUING LIKE THIS WILL DO NOTHING BUT RING THE DINNERBELLS ON OUR OWN BLOATED CORPSES! WE NEED TO WORK TOGETHER. THIS ISN’T ALTERNIA!!! I WILL NOT TOLERATE IN FIGHTING OR PETTY DRAMA OR GRUDGES OVER WHO TRIED TO KILL WHO WHEN WE WERE RIGHTFULLY BLOODTHIRSTY CHILDREN!<br/>
<span class="aradia">AA: excuse me? TRIED t0 kill wh0? s0me of us actually died y0u kn0w<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: OH DON’T BE DRAMATIC. YOU CAME BACK, DIDN’T YOU?<br/>
<span class="aradia">AA: 0_0<br/>
<span class="terezi">GC: W3LL MY 3Y321GHT N3V3R C4M3 B4CK.</span></span></span></span></span>
</p><p>Holy shit. Was this Vriska the reason why Terezi’s blind? Dave happily gets on board with Terezi’s blatant but apparently well-earned hostility against the cerulean troll. </p><p>
  <span class="karkat">CG: AND WHEN HAS BEING FUCKING BLIND EVER SLOWED YOU DOWN, YOU NOSE CRAZED LUNATIC?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: LOOK, WE CAN’T FIGHT FOR OUR FUTURE IF WE’RE STILL STUCK SQUABBLING OVER THE PAST. I’M NOT SAYING TO FORGET, FORGIVE, OR EVEN MORE THE FUCK ON, BUT WE HAVE BIGGER PROBLEMS TO DEAL WITH RIGHT NOW. THERE ARE THOUSANDS OF OTHER TROLLS COUNTING ON US TO GET THIS RIGHT AND I KNOW FOR SOME OF YOU THAT COUNTS FOR SHIT BUT IT SHOULDN’T! WE CAME HERE TO HAVE A CHANCE TO GROW UP FREE FROM THE EMPIRE. DID YOU THINK IT WOULD BE FUCKING EASY? DID YOU THINK THAT HUMANS WOULD ROLL OUT THE RED CARPET FOR US AND LIFE WOULD BE SHITS AND RAINBOWS?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: WE HAVE MADE A GOOD LIFE FOR OURSELVES HERE, ONE FREE FROM THE HEMOSPECTRUM AND FREE FROM THE HIC AND HER EMPIRE’S TYRANNY. THAT’S ALL THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FOR THE REST OF THE TROLLS WE SAVED BUT THAT WAS NEVER THE END OF IT FOR US! NOT FOR US TWELVE. IT WAS ALWAYS GOING TO BE AN UPHILL BATTLEGROUND FOR US BECAUSE WE KNEW THIS PEACE WASN’T MEANT TO LAST FOREVER!<br/>
<span class="terezi">GC: BUT W3 W3R3 2UPP023D T0 G3T M0R3 T1ME.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: I UNDERSTAND THAT. BUT WHAT’S DONE IS DONE. WE’RE HERE. THE HIC KNOWS WE’RE HERE. THE HUMANS WANT TO OFFER US UP LIKE CARVED HOLIDAY BIRD CARCASSES SO…<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?</span></span></span></span></span></span>
</p><p>And Dave was back in that night in the dark, watching Karkat’s slow grin and hearing the words ‘I’m going to fight’. </p><p>It was yellow text that answers.</p><p>
  <span class="sollux">TA: we wreck theiir 2hiit and look fuckiing cool whiile doiing iit. </span>
</p><p>Dave approves. </p><p>
  <span class="dave">TG: how can i help?<br/>
<span class="eridan">CA: you can stop typing in that fuckin awwful color, for one.<br/>
<span class="nepeta">AC: :33 &lt; eridan, no!<br/>
<span class="eridan">CA: wwhat? wwe wwere all thinkin it<br/>
<span class="sollux">TA: well maybe 2ome of u2 aren't biigoted fuck2, have you ever con2iidered that fii2hface?<br/>
<span class="eridan">CA: is that a highblood slur i see in the same sentence as you insinuatin that you're not a bigoted fuck, you fuckin hypocrite?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: THAT’S ENOUGH! NOT ANOTHER WORD ABOUT FIGHTING OR TEXT COLORS OF UNFOUTUNATE SHADES OR PAST DRAMAS OR ANYTHING! WE HAVE WORK TO DO, REMEMBER?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: FEFERI, CAN YOU BRIEF EVERYONE ABOUT THE LATEST POLITICAL CLUSTERFUCK WHILE I BRING DAVE UP TO SPEED?<br/>
<span class="feferi">CC: s)(ore t)(ing, and karkat, you know t)(at i'll do al lot of t)(ings for you out of trust and trust alone. you've earned t)(at rig)(t at least, but isn't it dangerous to let a )(uman know w)(at we're planning? w)(at if )(e turns on us? i know you're c)(ummy wit)( t)(e bouy but w)(at's to keep )(im from s)(arkbaiting us t)(e instant )(e knows t)(e trut)(? eridan is rig)(t. t)(is is risky.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>
</p><p>Dave blinks at the pink-tinted text. This was the color of royal blood, the heiress herself. Dave has known that Karkat and the rest of them were in direct cahoots with her, but seeing that color displayed on his screen is a punch to the gut.</p><p>
  <span class="karkat">CG: EVERYTHING WE’VE DONE SO FAR IS RISKY! WE HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO LOSE!<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: AND I TRUST DAVE. HE WON’T BETRAY US.<br/>
<span class="feferi">CC: )(ow are you so s)(ore?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: YOU SAID YOU WOULD TRUST ME, AND I SAY WE CAN TRUST HIM.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: IS THAT ENOUGH FOR YOU?<br/>
<span class="feferi">CC: do i reelly )(ave a c)(oice?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: NO.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span>
</p><p>It was another impossible thing, Feferi, the princess of all Alternians, deferring to Karkat without a struggle. </p><p>
  <span class="feferi">CC: okay. i'll s)(are w)(at )(appened today w)(ile you educate our newest ally in basic facts about t)(e rebellion! now you two go off into your own c)(at so i can sc)(oolfeed t)(e rest of us.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: WILL DO. SOLLUX?<br/>
<span class="sollux">TA: on iit</span></span></span>
</p><p>A second box pops up on his screen and the original group chat dissolves back into Alternian nonsense at the drop of a dime. Slate gray text lights his screen.</p><p>
  <span class="karkat">CG: DAVE? SORRY ABOUT THE CHAOTIC INTRO BACK THERE. WE CAN BE A WILD BUNCH OF JUVENILE IDIOTS WHEN NOT FOCUSING HARD ENOUGH ON THE TASK AT HAND, WHICH IS SADLY MOST OF THE FUCKING TIME. I HOPE THEY DIDN’T SCARE YOU OFF TOO BADLY.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: no its okay<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: i just dont know what you want from me here<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: YOU SAID I COULD TRUST YOU WITH ANYTHING AND I BELIEVED YOU. IF THAT ISN’T THE CASE, TELL ME NOW AND I’LL HAVE SOLLUX KICK YOU FROM THE GROUP AND WE’LL NEVER SPEAK OF THIS AGAIN. </span></span></span></span>
</p><p>Dave doesn’t hesitate. </p><p>
  <span class="dave">TG: no, you were right<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: you can trust me<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: THEN HERE’S WHAT I NEED YOU TO DO.</span></span></span>
</p><p>Karkat tells him about the Empire, about the exodus, about all of the things Dave already knew before he began to fill in the gaps in the information, until the picture the US government would kill for forms. </p><p>
  <span class="karkat">CG: THE HIC WILL NEVER LET US GO, BUT SHE CAN’T ATTACK US DIRECTLY EITHER, NOT YET. ALTERNIAN LAW FORBIDS HER FROM CHALLANGING THE HEIRESS UNTIL ASCENCION DAY TO GIVE THE HEIRESS A CHANCE TO MATURE BEFORE THE HIC RIPS HER SKULL APART LIKE A CRACKED EGG. FLEEING THE PLANET DOES NOT CHANGE THIS LAW. THERE WILL BE ANOTHER TWO EARTH YEARS BEFORE THE HIC CAN STRIKE US DOWN FOR OUR INSOLENCE AND OUR ARROGANCE LIKE THE TINY LITTLE BUGS WE ARE. HER THREATS AT EARTH ARE BLUFFS FOR NOW—SHE CAN’T ACT OUT HER RAGE JUST YET, NOT WITHOUT BOTH ANGERING THE CHURCH AND INSULTING THE REST OF HER HIGHBLOODED GENERALS. UNTIL ASCENSION DAY, WE’RE SAFE HERE. THE HIC CAN’T TOUCH US.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: WE’RE LYING ABOUT THIS TO ALL OF THE WORLD LEADERS OF YOURS BY FEEDING THEM A BULLSHIT STORY ABOUT HOW LONG IT WOULD TAKE HER AND HER SHIPS TO REACH THE PLANET BECAUSE THE TRUTH IS SHE COULD BE HERE IN A WEEK IF SHE WANTED TO AND HUMANS DON’T UNDERSTAND SPACE TRAVEL. WE ARE LYING ABOUT THIS FACT TO MAKE THE HUMANS FEEL MORE IN CONTROL OF THE SITUATION, BECAUSE THEY’D FLIP SHIT IF THEY KNEW SHE COULD BE HERE TOMORROW AND WAS ONLY HOLDING BACK DUE TO INTANGIBLE ALIEN LAW AND TRADITION.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: AND WE CAN’T LEAVE THE PLANET. THE HUMANS SHOULD KNOW THIS BECAUSE PART OF OUR TREATY SPECIFICALLY DICTATED THE REPURPOSIFICATION OF OUR STOLEN FLEET SHIPS FOR THEIR SCIENTERRORISTS TO STUDY AND DISMANTLE. THERE ISN’T A SINGLE SPACE WORTHY SHIP LEFT AND THEY FUCKING KNOW IT—THEY JUST DON’T WANT TO ADMIT THEY’VE TRAPPED THEIR PROBLEM UNDER THE SAME APMOSPHERE AS THEM. WE’RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: THE OBVIOUS SOLUTION TO THIS ISSUE IS TO SIMPLY KILL ALL OF US THEMSELVES, WHICH IS FUCKING STUPID BECAUSE THAT WON’T MAGICALLY MAKE THE HIC FORGET ABOUT THE EXISTANCE OF THEIR FEEBLE LITTLE PLANET AND SPARE IT FROM THE SAME FATE THAT MEETS ANY OTHER LIFE-BEARING PLANET THE EMPIRE TRACKS DOWN, WHICH IS TOTAL, COMPLETE ANNIHILATION.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: BUT BEFORE YOU GO POINTING FINGERS AS US FOR LEADING HER HERE, SOLLUX HACKED FLEETSIDE FILES TO FIND OUT THE EXACT LOCATION OF EARTH BEFORE WE EVEN LEFT ALTERNIA. DID YOU THINK IT WAS RANDOM THAT WE HAPPENED ACROSS YOUR PLANET? THE HIC HAS HAD EARTH ON HER CULL LIST FOR SWEEPS, SO DON’T GO BLAMING US FOR CAUSING THIS WHEN YOU’RE THE ONES SENDING OUT RADIO SIGNALS LIKE PANDEAD MORONS BEGGING TO BE SUBJUGGLATED.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: EARTH MIGHT NOT BELIEVE THIS, BUT US BEING HERE HAS GIVEN THEM A FIGHTING CHANCE.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: what do you mean?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: THE NORMAL GAME PLAN FOR HANDLING PLANETS AS PRIMITIVE AS THIS ONE IS TO DESTROY THEM FROM ORBIT. HONESTLY SHE’D PROBABLY JUST CHUCK YOUR MOON AT YOU AND CALL IT A FUCKING DAY, ESPECIALLY SINCE THE ONLY WEAPONS MANKIND HAS SO FAR DISCOVERED HAS BEEN GUN AND THEN BIGGER GUN, NEITHER OF WHICH WILL PROVE USEFUL IN THE SLIGHTEST AGAINST EVEN A SINGLE FLEETSHIP. WITHOUT US HERE TO COMPLICATE THINGS, THE HIC WOULD HAVE WIPED THIS PLANET OUT LONG BEFORE YOU EVEN KNEW SOMETHING WAS WRONG.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: ok holy shit am i just supposed to act like thats not the most fucking insane and terrifying thing ive ever heard or<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: DAVE ITS OKAY THAT IS NOT WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN. EARTH IS SAFE FROM ALL BULLSHIT ONE HIT KILLS THE HIC COULD POSSIBLY COOK UP.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: why?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: I DON’T WANT TO LIE TO YOU, BUT IN THIS MATTER AND THIS MATTER ALONE I CAN’T TELL THE ENTIRE TRUTH. PLEASE, TRUST ME ON THIS. REMEMBER WHAT I SAID ABOUT ALTERNIAN TRADITIONS PROTECTING EARTH? IT’S KINDA LIKE THAT.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: but you cant tell me?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: I WANT TO. BUT I CAN’T.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: why not?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: IT’S TO PROTECT EARTH. IF THIS SECRET GETS OUT, IT COULD NEGATE THAT TWO YEAR MERCY GAP THE HIC MUST ABIDE AND INSTIGATE A FIGHT THAT NEITHER WE NOR EARTH WILL SURVIVE. I WILL TELL YOU, I SWEAR IT, BUT NOT YET. THE TIMELINE ISN’T RIGHT.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: you still havnt told me what you want from me. what do you need me to do? how can i help?<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: i want to help protect both you and the planet<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: I NEED YOU TO BE HONEST WITH ME. I NEED YOU TO READ BETWEEN THE LINES OF WHAT WE CAN AND CAN’T SAY TO THE REST OF THE HUMANS AND KNOW HOW TO FIX THIS IMPOSSIBLE MESS WE’RE IN.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: AND I KNOW YOU CAN’T DO THAT. I UNDERSTAND YOU’RE NOT A POLITERRORIST OR HUMAN LEGISLACERATOR AND THIS IS A HEAVY BURDEN TO TAKE ON THAT YOU NEVER ASKED FOR, BUT I NEED YOUR HELP. WE ALL DO, EVEN IF THE OTHERS WON’T FUCKING ADMIT IT BECAUSE THEIR HORNS ARE LODGED UP THEIR OWN ASSES HALF THE TIME.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: I DON’T EXPECT YOU TO BE PERFECT. I JUST NEED YOU TO BE GENUINE.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: CAN YOU DO THAT FOR ME, DAVE? CAN YOU HELP ME SAVE MY PEOPLE AND YOURS?</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>
</p><p>And Dave thinks. There’s a war in his mind that’s only ever had a single outcome, and his heart pounds out a litany of run, run, run with no direction behind it, but now there’s Karkat’s words crowding in close, molding purpose into his psyche with a task stupidly heroic enough to name itself something so foolishly grand as saving the fucking world.</p><p>And Dave’s fucking hooked. </p><p>He sets his fingers to his keyboard and types,</p><p>
  <span class="dave">TG:  i will<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: so off topic but theres this webcomic im writing</span></span>
</p><p>He doesn’t sleep that night, and by the time the sun bleeds its way across the red sky Dave has a plan and a stubborn hope that only grows with the rising light as he weaves the comedic background for a rebellion that’s yet to happen, mixing metaphor and allegory with banal slapstick until something brilliant emerges. </p><p>And then he uploads the first page of Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff, chapter two and sits back as his hit tracker begins to climb as people stream to the new update. </p><p>Dave is fourteen years old. He might know how to throw a punch but not how to fight in a war, but goddamn he can hold a pen and bullshit his way through it until a clearer path emerges. For now, that’ll have to be enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>somehow even in freakishly long works like this one is going to be my chapter twos still struggle, but i feel like im getting better with every attempt. Personal growth babey!</p><p> </p><p>Plus there's so many places in this chapter with hidden meanings that just thinking about the future is exciting!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. End</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>New chapter alert hell yeah!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It takes two years for shit to hit the fan. In the time it takes for Karkat’s mercy gap to run out, the troll’s lockdown ends and they’re allowed to reintegrate into society once more. Dave is only sixteen and his name is rapidly becoming globally known. He’s been in the top ten trending on Twitter for a few years now. He’s been doing collabs with names far bigger than his, climbing the Hollywood ladder with dogged purpose even if for now the rest of the world doesn’t dare imagine exactly what Dave has in store for them. Ben Shapiro personally blocks him after a transparent caricature of him is seen on SBAHJ in less than flattering ways, a fact that left John rolling on the floor. He now has the exchange framed on his bedroom wall. Dave only knows this because John sends him an image of the picture frame and includes the exchange in a skit he posts on Youtube. The skit goes viral at first because Dave’s involved, but then people decide they actually like John’s style of comedy and his channel explodes all on its own. There’s a new comedy routine uploaded once a week.</p>
<p>Rose also uses that two year time period to stake her own claim to fame. It only takes the first book in her <em>Complacency of the Learned<em> universe to have readers hooked and her on tour to cities like L.A and New York. There’s an ongoing joke between them on whose signature is worth more, John’s or Rose’s, and Dave eggs them on by having them each sign random shit and auctioning the items off on EBay as part of his growing internet persona shtick. A portable plastic urinal signed by Rose goes for 69k and breaks the internet for at least a week. The funds go into an account managed by Sollux on the down low, stockpiling resources for the day when the trolls would need them the most. </em></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>Dave keeps his relationship to the trolls quiet. He knows better than to stir the shit pot of controversy yet. He mostly keeps his head down at school and his bedroom door locked at the apartment. Bro’s fairly internet-savvy and Dave dreads the day his guardian connects the dots of SBAHJ back to him and wonders where all the goddamn funds he’s been raising are and gets more hitty than usual. Dave puts up with the beatings because the last thing his public image needs is to see him as a beaten kid with an abusive dad. Dave wants to become something more than the internet’s latest rags-to-riches punchline to be fawned over and then thrown away the next time someone posts a vid of a kitten playing the piano. Jade teaches him how to hide the bruises with makeup over FaceTime as she solders wires together with a blowtorch. She won’t tell him what she’s spent the last few months working on, but Dave is sure that when she does, Jade’ll break the internet in her own right. Her genius is on par with Sollux’s, and after Dave introduces them he steps back and lets them nerd out over how best to blend Alternian tech within frustratingly limited human frameworks. Together, Dave is sure they’ll invent something terrifying. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>There’s no words for this, no pre-written script for him to follow, but Dave still asks. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="dave">TG: how long until it happens?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: UNTIL ASCENSION DAY?<br/>
<span class="dave">TG:  yeah<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: VERY SOON. TOO SOON.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: how long?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: HOW LONG UNTIL THE HIC SLAUGHTERS US ALL?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: HOPEFULLY NEVER. DAVE, YOU KNOW WE HAVE A PLAN.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: but until i know what it is you have to put up with my feeble human attempts to negate my own very understandable fear of utter annihilation.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: this would be easier if you could tell me what you actually mean to do, you know<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: maybe i could even help<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: NOT IN THIS, DAVE. I’M SORRY. YOU’LL HAVE TO TRUST ME.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: you know i do<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: i just wish things were easier<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: NO ONE EVER SAID CHANGE WAS EASY, AND WHAT WE’RE ATTEMPTING TO DO? CHANGE FATE, CHANGE SOCIETY, CHANGE BOTH OF OUR SPECIES FOR THE BETTER TO PREVENT MULTIPLE DIFFERENT GENOCIDES… I DON’T THINK ANY PERSON HAD TRIED TO DO SOMETHING HARDER AND MORE IMPOSSIBLE THAN US.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: but weve got eachother right?<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: i bet no one ever tried to change shit like we are. this time were at the wheel and its all unmapped land, unfinished territory ahead of us. no one knows what happens from here on out—we get to make the rules<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: FOR EARTH MAYBE, BUT THE EMPRESS WON’T CARE JACK SHIT ABOUT ANYTHING EXCEPT MURDERING FEFERI, RECLAIMING AND MOST LIKELY CULLING ALL OF THE TROLLS WHO FLED WITH US SIMPLY TO PROVE A POINT, AND THEN TURNING THE EARTH INSIDE OUT. MAYBE ALL AT ONCE.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: WE’VE ONLY GOT ONE CHANCE TO STOP HER.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: which is?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: SOMETHING THAT YOU’LL SEE VERY SOON. THE ENTIRE PLANET WILL. ITS OUR ACE IN THE GRASSPIT—FEFERI’S ONE SHOT AT DIVERTING THE HIC’S ATTENTION AWAY FROM BLATENT MURDER BY KICKING THE ENTIRE HORNET’S NEST OF ALTERNIAN SOCIETY SO FUCKING HARD THAT EVEN THE HIC CAN’T CONTROL WHAT HAPPENS NEXT.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: AND THAT’S OUR GOAL.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: ANYTHING THAT PUTS THE EMPRESS OFF-BALANCE AND OFF HER GAME IS A WIN FOR US.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: and how will you do it?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: SOLLUX FIGURED IT OUT. THAT’S ALL I’M GOING TO SAY FOR NOW.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: cant you tell me at least a little bit of a more coherent timeline than this? when the time comes i want to be ready<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: TRUST ME, YOU WILL BE. IT’LL BE PRETTY FUCKING HARD TO MISS. SOLLUX NEVER DOES ANYTHING HALFWAY, THE BASTARD.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: AND AFTERWARD, I’LL NEED YOU TO PULL SOME OF YOUR INTERNET BULLSHIT ABOUT CERTAIN TOPICS. YOU’VE TALKED ABOUT PHASE TWO OF YOUR COMIC PLAN WITH ME BEFORE AND I KNOW YOU’VE ALWAYS SAID THAT YOU WANTED TO WAIT UNTIL AFTER YOUR FIRST MOVE DEAL TO START IT WITH THE HEAVY SHIT, THE REAL SHIT, BUT HOW WOULD YOU FEEL ABOUT MOVING THAT TIMELINE UP A LITTLE?<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: id say the jokes on you<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: terezi is helping me with the legal schematics of it still, but sbahj the movie, the first one, is set to start filming within the next six months.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: is your new timeline sooner than that?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: HOLY SHIT DAVE, YOU NEVER TOLD ME IT WAS HAPPENING SO QUICKLY!<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: THAT’S HUGE. THAT’S AMAZING NEWS, CONGRADULATIONS MAN! I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: but?<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: come on karkat i can hear a but there<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: NO, IT’S NOT THAT. I’M REALLY PROUD OF YOU DAVE, I AM. BUT…<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: i fuckin knew it<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: what?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: I JUST HATE THAT WE, TROLLKIND, RUINED THE AMAZINGLY SUCESSFUL LIVE YOU WERE GOING TO HAVE WITHOUT OUR INTERFERANCE. YOU WERE ALWAYS GOING TO BE THIS AMAZINGLY TALENTED PERSON WHO WAS GOING TO INFLUENCE SO MANY PEOPLE AND DO ALL OF THESE GREAT THINGS AND THEN I CRASHLANDED A FEW STOLEN FLEETSHIPS ONTO YOUR PLANET AND STOLE THAT FUTURE AWAY FROM YOU.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: you mean that future where the hic murders all of you and then chucks the moon at earth with literally zero warning, 360 noscoping me and the rest of humanity to death in a single instant?<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: no thanks. i prefer this future. you know, the one where im helping stop all of that bad death shit from happening<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: out of all possible futures, im glad life gave me this one<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: so tell me what you need me to do.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: MAKE SURE YOU’RE READY FOR PHASE TWO OF SBAHJ. ONCE THIS CRAZY PARTY STARTS SHIT’LL HAPPEN FAST AND IT WON’T STOP HAPPENING UNTIL WE EITHER WIN OR GET OUR ASSES KILLED.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: don’t worry. ive got rose in tune with me too—shes waiting to drop the next complacentcy book when i begin phase two so we can strike humanity with a double punch of pro-troll propaganda.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: IS THAT EVEN HOW YOU SPELL COMPLACENTCY? COMPLACENTCIE? COMPLACENTSY? HOLY HELL HUMAN SPELLING IS WEIRD.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: yeah I have no clue either<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: but anyway were both ready to rain media-based hellfire down on your command. john too<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: THANK YOU. I NEVER IMAGINED WHEN I INVITED YOU TO JOIN US THAT YOU WOULD BRING OTHER HUMANS WITH YOU AS WELL, MUCH LESS THAT THEY WOULD EACH BE EQUALLY AS SKILLED AND PASSIONATE ABOUT OUR CAUSE AS YOU.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: they want to save the planet too, and they trust you enough to know the best way to go about doing that<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: and so do i<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: so dont fuck up and get us all killed, okay? no pressure<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: DON’T WORRY. I’M FAIRLY CONFIDENT ABOUT THIS NEXT PART AT LEAST. IF I KNOW ANYTHING, ITS HOW BEST TO PISS OFF THE HIC AND THE REST OF THE EMPIRE. IT’S WHAT HAPPENS NEXT THAT’LL BE HARDER. I CAN CANCEL OUT THE EMPIRE’S ONE-HIT-KILL WHEN ASCENSION DAY REACHES US BUT DOING SO OPENS UP A WHOLE-ASS OTHER CAN OF A CROCKPOT OF SHIT THAT’S UNPRECEDENTED.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: I JUST HOPE THAT I CAN EARN THE TRUST THAT YOU PLACE IN ME.<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: i trust you<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: always<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: how will i know when its happening?<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: YOU’LL KNOW.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: WE’LL DEFEAT THE HIC’S FIRST ATTACK THE SAME WAY YOU’LL STRIKE YOUR BLOW AT THE EMPIRE.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: JUST KEEP WATCHING THE SCREENS.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>The next six months go by. Filming SBAHJ takes him away from Bro most days and Dave gets used to not wearing bruises. As much as he hates giving Bro anything above literal cat shit in a bag, as long as Dave throws a check his way once a month his guardian stops being a problem. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth but Dave’s still only 16. He’s too young to escape in the way he wants. For now keeping Bro sated with cash bribes and Dave’s abuse hidden under the rug is the easiest thing to do.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>It’s nothing but flyby days of plans and actors and arguing over casting choices and the proper use of CGI. Dave’s young and new to cinematography but he’s not an idiot. He knows what he wants. He knows how he wants his scenes to play out and Hollywood is getting increasingly frustrated at him for not rolling over and letting them crush the soul out of him because they want something marketable and don’t understand that Dave is simply not interested in that. What he wants is a base, a solid foundation, the building blocks for his grand scheme. Dave wants this first movie to stand out as well as stand alone. Hollywood wants something they can slap a logo on and sell out theaters with. Many, many ‘creative differences’ happen before Terezi works out the paperwork for the official split because the more abhorrent his movie looks on the surface, the better.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>Dave soaks up the inherent controversy his public schism act immediately causes. There’s no such thing as negative attention in Hollywood and the publicity the stunt causes is free advertising as far as he’s concerned. This alienates a fair bit of his sponsors and blacklists him immediately, so instead Dave hires fans and no-name actors and mixes the music himself. He builds his team from the ground up and films on IPhones until he crowdfunds enough for a real setup. It takes three months to edit everything together and ship out the crates that hold the third of Rose’s novels and they each premier their new works on the same night. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>Dave easily quads his profits off his original piss-poor budget within the first week even with the fact that he uploads the entire film to YouTube less than 24 hours after it airs. Its yet another middle finger raised at Hollywood and his fans drink it in. The full-length film racks up 36 million hits in 48 hours and the count doesn’t stop growing. Dave still sells out all of the theaters too. Rotten Tomatoes gives him a record-breaking official score of 4%. Audience approval sits at 98%. So far, Dave’s overly-convoluted plan is working perfectly. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>Rose tops the Bestsellers list for the third time. There’s talk of a Pulitzer Prize for how she ‘blends reality and fiction with such deft wit and skill’. No one mentions the rising tide of tangled worldviews clashing together and gray moral decisions faced by her beloved wizardly protagonists. It’s too soon for them to sense war brewing on the horizon. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>Dave’s on tenterhooks and needles waiting for Karkat’s next move. All of the twelve trolls that make up the exiled Alternian’s semi-official governing body are even more gray-faced than usual. It’s clear they’re waiting too. Feferi stops dropping fish puns into their meetings. Her tone grows more serious. She’s grown from the six sweep old he first met and her horns match her typing quirk perfectly as she grows into the mark of her royal bloodcolor. Sollux seems more overwrought than usual but that guy’s always been hard to read. He basically lives off of RedBull and spite and whatever him and Jade have been working on shows in the tired lines around his bi-colored eyes when he logs into their weekly meetings to snark at Karkat, insult the living shit out of everyone else, lob barbs directly at Dave for the crime of being a dumb human, and get eventually kicked from the group by Terezi when she’s fed up with his angsty bullshit. It’s a familiar pattern. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>But Dave feels the timeline shortening and if Karkat won’t tell him, he’ll find another way. He trusts Karkat 100%, but he needs to know. How can he best help the trolls if he doesn’t know?</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>He asks Terezi. She laughs in his face.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>He asks Sollux. The fucking nerd sends him a virus that ruins his phone. Dave blocks his number. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>He asks Tavros because he thinks out of all the trolls that dude would be the most amenable to a little bit of verbal strong-arming. Tavros leaves him on read. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>By this point Dave is sure that Karkat has been alerted to his antics but he doesn’t stop. He can’t ask a random troll either because as a human Dave isn’t even supposed to be aware of Ascension Day. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>So Dave finally breaks and asks Gamzee. He’s never even talked with the highblood before now but figures that the clown can’t string two thoughts together for long enough to wonder why he’s even asking. Dave’s been barking up the wrong tree because the guy actually fucking tells him in less than two seconds because he’s too stupid to remember he’s not supposed to, then freaks and quits the call, presumably off to tell Karkat immediately. Dave doesn’t care—he has the info he wants. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>But Dave’s hands are shaking. He stares at the messages in purple on his screen, at the date listen right at the very end.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="gamzee"> TC: WhAt? AsCeNsIoN dAy? WhY aRe YoU aSkInG aBoUt ThAt NoNsEnSe My MaN? yOu FoRgEt WhAt DaY iT iS oR sOmEtHiNg?<br/>
<span class="dave">TG: i must have forgotten to circle it on my calendar.<br/>
<span class="gamzee"> TC: Ah, It AiN't A tHiNg, BrO. i GoT yOu. ShIt'S iN eXaCtLy 11 DaYs. I gOt ThAt CoUnTdOwN uP iN mY mOtHeRfUcKiN dReAmS, yOu KnOw?</span></span></span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>It’s too soon and too far away all at once. Too soon to plan, not fast enough to avoid the stress of helpless waiting. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>Karkat’s spamming his inbox with probably furious pesters but Dave ignores him. 11 days until the end of the world. It only feels final now. It’s always been this far off-creeping thing but now the apocalypse is literally happening next Thursday. It’s a lot to take in. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>He finally answers Karkat, expecting furious shouting and much cursing for poking his human nose where it doesn’t belong. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>It’s not that at all.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="karkat">CG: TURN ON YOUR TV.<br/>
<span class="karkat">CG: IT’S STARTING NOW. </span></span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>Dave puts on the news. He flicks through a few different channels but they’re all playing the same thing. The airways of the world all play the same message on repeat. The words are in Alternian but there’s English subtitles. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>The video starts with Feferi. It’s just her but she’s dressed in her bloodcolor as she bares her shark-sharp teeth in a vicious grin. As Dave reads the words as they pass by, he gains their meaning.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>It’s a goddamn manifesto. Feferi declares the Exodus trolls as her own and theirs a separate political entity separate from the Empire. She lists Earth as under her protection and outlines the troll’s new constitution. The first decree is the total abolishment of the hemospectrum. The subtitles may be in English but America isn’t this message’s intended audience. This is a banner waved right at the heart of the Empire, and as inflammatory as it may be, Dave panics, because he knows this will surely piss off the HIC but he doesn’t see how it’s going to do anything except seal their fate. Feferi can call for all the peaceful transition of power she wants—the HIC will rip her head off and use it to fuck the earth with. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>But then the script veers. Feferi says her reign is favored above that of the HIC and lists herself and herself alone as the true Empress of their kind. The camera zooms in close enough that Dave picks out the freshly blooming tyrion in her gray eyes before a new scene appears. Feferi’s still speaking about all the reasons why the current HIC is flawed and unfit to rule, but her suicidal barbs at the Empress register in the background. There’s a single set of bare gray hands on the screen, held open towards the viewer as if in prayer. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>When Feferi speaks again, it’s with the ring of power her voice has always held. Its deep-seas and ice and the voids between the stars. It’s the spark of challenge, of rebellion, and a call to arms as on screen the unseen troll splits open the skin of their palm with a thumb claw, dragging a deep line across the flesh.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>For a second Dave blinks because he must be seeing this wrong, then he blinks because he doesn’t understand it even as across the room his computer screen lights up with several dozen hits at once. His phone is going crazy in his pocket. He’s indoors and 14 floors above downtown but the screams still reach him as the troll onscreen bleeds out <em>red</em>. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>Feferi’s face returns to the screen. The pink in her eyes is astounding but more so is the huge gold culling fork she wields as if it’s feather-light. Her fangs are bared. Dave can’t look away. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>“We are the Red Cult,” Feferi declared proudly as with a flourish she reveals the insignia on her armband, a skeletal yin-yang, red on black. “And I welcome every troll to join us. Everyone crushed beneath the Hemospectrum, everyone who’s spent sweeps praying for a chance to rise up, this is your call to arms! We are favored by fate, morality, reason, and the Sufferer. Join us! Let us end tyranny for trollkind once and for all! And,” Feferi grins a bloodthirsty grin at the camera. Its unflinching and violent, full of promise. “Meenah, come and stop us if you dare.”</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>The screen goes black. Thirty seconds pass and the recording takes it from the top. Dave watches it for the next hour until he’s got it memorized down to the camera angles. He goes back to his computer. Pulls up Pesterchum/Trollian. Wordlessly adds John, Rose, and Jade to the groupchat before joining the main party, so aptly named by Karkat as the ‘obnoxious idiots try to avoid their justly deserved fates’ chat.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>There’s still ten days until Ascension Day. Dave has work to do. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>Behind him, Feferi’s mantra plays on loop.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>End of Act One.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oh yeah, its all starting to come together &gt;:)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A new start</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one took a while. If you've been keeping up with me on servers and stuff you'll know things happened but its here! It's new chapter time! A 10k+ chapter at that! </p><p>LET'S FUCKING DO THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!</p><p>also check the tags I changed a few things</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Propaganda is an art form. Dave reckons when its well done its like a painting by a grandmaster that took shape over several years. Like that DiCaprio guy, painting the roof of that church with a bunch of naked people and the Pope as a demon. The work is very large, expansive, and done in separate segments along the roof of the building. The end result, when viewed as a whole, can form a beautiful picture. </p><p>But most art nowadays is a fast commodity, made cheap and meant to be inhaled at a frightening pace. The media incites this artistic firestorm, with appreciation of fine art being degraded down to liking an Instagram photo and then immediately scrolling down to the next pic in line, nothing but fodder for an army of braindead socialites posing on beaches in bikinis, thinking they’re self-employed when really they’re the bottom rung of a pyramid scheme. It’s flashy, showy, and completely worthless. It’s what Hollywood has made its billions hawking to the masses. </p><p>Dave’s art is not like that.</p><p>To ensure that his message sinks in at the right time, he breaks it up. Much like the old masters who painted churches, Dave’s art is broken into segments. It’s only when viewed as a whole that the real picture forms, and he hasn’t released the next movie in line and left fans rabid for the next SBAHJ instalment. It helps that his plot timeline is out of order, mixing things up, muddying what happens next.</p><p>That’s the hardest part. Waiting. Even after those eleven days crawl by and Ascension Day comes and goes without the sky being torn apart by laser fire. But art has got to be done right to be good, and Dave spent years in an apartment with Bro. He’s learned to wait, and like all the best propaganda, he’s got to start dripping his end goals into the collective human consciousness slowly. It’s got to build up first. No one starts a cultural revolution overnight, and after Feferi’s flashy manifesto, mankind is torn in two over how to respond. </p><p>In a way, that’s exactly what Karkat wants. The troll expected mankind to turn on them in vast droves, but the younger generation, Dave’s generation that’s grown up with their troll neighbors and friends, is vocal about their support. Those are the voices Dave magnifies in his work. He calls in social activists, gives them platforms to speak from, bankrolls start-ups for cultural exchanges, and hosts interviews with trolls as guest stars, all while keeping his own face out of the spotlight. It’s a tight two months but Dave gets the job done by the time the next SBAHJ chapter goes up online. John co-stars a podcast interview about his latest work. Rose is the host. There’s enough cahoots going on in the shadows to make Vriska proud, and Dave’s pulling all the strings. </p><p>The trolls at least share a common side. They’re all members of Feferi’s new republic and on Earth the Hemospectrum lies in waste. Rusts and blues walk hand-in-hand, and Feferi’s mass-produced Red Cult symbol appears on every troll’s wardrobe. </p><p>It’s quiet from the Empire. That’s what’s got him scared. Bro was always at his worst when he was quiet, meant the fucker was planning things, and Dave guesses the HIC is of the same mindset. </p><p>Two months after Ascension Day, the transmission arrives out of Deep Space. </p><p>It doesn’t need to be in English for Dave to understand the insult. The video transmission isn’t aired publically—the HIC doesn’t care enough about mankind for that, she only wants her message to go to the rebels. Sollux intercepts it, strangles the code out before it could get snatched up by human transmitters. The version Dave sees hasn’t been translated yet and his Alternian is botched as hell from years of only learning the swears, but that’s almost enough to get by on his own. Karkat helpfully fills in the gaps over FaceTime, not wanting to leave a paper trail behind even though Trollian/Pesterchum was safe thanks to Sollux’s eternal paranoia. </p><p>The video isn’t a manifesto—it’s an execution. There isn’t a message until the end, after the footage of the slaughter winds down, dripping rainbows of primarily warmer shades across the screen from the ruin of Alternia, the surface of the planet bombed-out and smoking, the fires visible from where the fleetship hovered above the horizon. </p><p>Karkat had told him the planet would be wiped out after Ascension Day, a hard reset before the next brood would be allowed to hatch, a cleanse to chase out the rot of the Red Cult before Feferi’s dream of peace could infect the next generation. That part’s expected even if Dave can’t help but draw parallels between the freshly cratered surface of Alterina and Earth, everything burnt to char. City ruins all looked the same from 2 miles up. </p><p>It’s what happens after the young trolls are rounded up that has his blood boiling. </p><p>Karkat talks him through it with ruthless efficiency, his voice creaky with withheld rage. “I know the HIC culled everyone who knew about the Exodus that couldn’t fit on the ships, everyone we had to leave behind.”</p><p>It’s a bloodbath. Its systematic genocide of the newly Ascended trolls. Untold thousands die on screen for crimes that vary from physical disability to social nonconformity. The wipe out is mostly impersonal. It’s calculated but not cruel for all that it’s child murder. The Empire doesn’t care enough to make it slow and that mercy alone is a small blessing. This part is by-the-book for the Empire, weeding out the trolls they don’t strictly need or find useful enough to allow further existence. It’s the second category that has Karkat’s voice choking up.</p><p>There’s a troll on screen, a real tough-looking guy with piercings through his face and even his horns. There’s a small black tattoo below his eye of the Red Cult’s 69, worn proud, bold, and suicidally reckless. There’s cerulean fire flecking in his eyes as he spits at the camera, snarling, teeth bared and hands bound in cuffs that look eerily identical to the mark on his face.</p><p>“I know him,” Karkat’s voice is shaking. “He’s one of our planners who volunteered to stay behind.”</p><p>Dave can’t take his eyes off the bound troll. “Why’d he stay?”</p><p>“To keep seeding Feferi’s revolution into the populace of the planet,” Karkat unwillingly admits. “Each of them willingly took that tattoo in order to draw the Empire down hard on them after Ascension Day.”</p><p>“That’s a death sentence,” Dave argues as Karkat answers, “It’s a distraction.”</p><p>Dave can’t see the point of it. “Why?”</p><p>Karkat shrugs miserably as onscreen a second troll appears, an adult with blackened skin and horns that twist upwards in tall spirals. There’s something unspeakably vicious in their fanged face, club in hand, eyes like Gamzee on a bad day. The blueblood ducks under the first blow, tries to gore them with his horns. The subjugglator drops the club, makes it personal, makes it slow. It’s nearly forty minutes before the screaming stops and that’s only because they took his tongue. Karkat doesn’t skip through the video. He watches it unfold in full and over the small square of the viewport on his screen Dave can see the troll’s hands go ashy with the strain of how he’s digging claws into the wood of his desk. A second troll is brought in, also marked with the 69 on one high cheekbone, head held elegant and high as she disdainfully steps over the abandoned club on the bloodied ground to face the highblood without fear, the body of a co-conspirator bloodied at her feet. </p><p>Karkat translates her final words for him. “Kill us all,” he says as the troll onscreen lifts her chin with challenge. “You can’t drown out the spark we’ve set. Our blood will fan the flames, not smother them.”</p><p>It’s clear she would have said more but the highblood interrupts with a ripped snarl. There’s a wet gurgle that cuts off, the heavy thunk of a body dropping, and they bring in the third troll in line.</p><p>“How long is the transmission?” Dave asks flatly, feeling nauseous. He knew that Feferi’s war would be bloody, that people tend to die in wars, but seeing those kids his age die on screen like bugs on a uncaring windshield if they’re lucky and worms on the pavement when the boot stomps down if they’re not makes the point slam home for the first time. </p><p>“Seventy hours and counting,” Karkat replies. His swallow is thick with withheld tears. “Sollux is still decoding it.”</p><p>It’s real then. Fate of the Earth, fate of the trolls, a inter-species space war led by an insane fish alien who cut out her own heart centuries ago and would gladly step over the corpses of her people’s children in order to remain on top of a dynasty she’d carved out of the blood of billions. </p><p>And Dave is a sixteen year old boy fighting back via YouTube and shitty memes. </p><p>It doesn’t make sense. It’s hopeless. He can’t be expected to social media shame a fucking warlord into submission. He scrambles for something to say. “Why mark them at all? Why’d they choose to die like this?” He can’t imagine it, staying behind, waiting six years to die. It doesn’t make sense. </p><p>“Trolls like Mallek willingly took the brand so the Empire would find them easily,” Karkat explained. He’s not looking at the camera, gaze fixated on the floor. “It was Terezi’s idea. If the Empress had a few dozen toys to break apart, maybe it would satisfy her bloodlust a little. Maybe if we let the Empire silence the loudest voices, our sleeper agents would more easily survive.”</p><p>“Sleeper agents?” Dave’s voice is flat. </p><p>“The Empire won’t be scrutinizing the midbloods and the highbloods as closely as the lowbloods,” Karkat told him. “Statistically, more of them will make it into the ranks versus any lowbloods we might have turned who would be the more obvious targets.”</p><p>Dave’s still sick. “Why?”</p><p>Karkat’s voice contains a cold certainty. “We can’t win this war with just us,” he says. “We need the support of the rest of our generation, those who survive, as well as all the other lowbloods they’ll turn over to our side in the upcoming sweep. That’s why we needed our sleeper agents to make it through, and why Mallek and the rest of them knew their sacrifice was necessary.”</p><p>It’s not an answer Dave can live with. He can’t imagine Karkat feeding trolls into a meatgrinder like this.  “Why?”</p><p>Karkat’s voice breaks. “Because we didn’t have any other choice!… And because the Empire took everything from them to the point where even I couldn’t rescue them from themselves.” This time Karkat’s anger is directed at himself, at the Empress, at his entire broken society. “Mallek lost his moirail to a drone right before we got away. He took the brand that very night and gave his seat away to a rustblood who hadn’t made the cut.” Karkat shudders in his next breath. “War needs soldiers willing to die for the cause, and I couldn’t convince him to live.”</p><p>Dave thinks back to the troll’s face, how he’d stubbornly dug in his heels and fought back, hands bound, head bowed but unbroken. “Did you know him well?”</p><p>“Not as well as he deserved,” Karkat’s crying now for sure, but he’s got his face turned away just enough to hide the tears from Dave. “I’m Feferi’s fucking general,” he says, fighting back the sobs. “I always knew I’d lose people to this rebellion and that Mallek and his team were always going to die, but, but—”</p><p>The sound of Karkat’s misery makes Dave want to drop everything and go to him, but he isn’t in Texas anymore, he’s in L.A for filming, he’s scheduled to fly to Atlanta in the morning for more filming, and he’s not the same boy he was the first time he ran to the troll for comfort before Feferi’s treason turned to war and dead kids clogged his inbox. </p><p>He still has to help. “Could you talk to Gamzee or…” He trails off, unsure of how to tread around Karkat’s crazed moirail. </p><p>The noise Karkat makes is one of broken defeat. He sniffles. “No. Me and Gamzee… it’s complicated.”</p><p>“Complicated?” Dave questioned, though <em>complicated</em> best described the way Karkat had drug the highblood kicking and screaming away from violence. </p><p>“Yeah, he’s just…” Karkat sighs and wipes his eyes clear before turning back to the screen. “I tried my best to be what he needed me to be, to keep him on the narrows and away from his blood-drenched inheritance, but…”</p><p>“But?” Dave echoes, prying now to distract Karkat from the reel that was still rolling. If the footage revealed anything useful, Sollux would tell him. Dave didn’t need to see every second of bloodshed first-hand. He closed the box to better focus on Karkat. </p><p>The admittance came out of the troll in a rush. “I feel like I’m losing him. Not like there’s a danger of him going hiveshit on the nearest lowblood, I at the very fucking least did my job well enough to curb THAT bullshit, but that me, us… like our diamonds weren’t made of the right kind of stardust to be strong enough to withstand the bullshit that’s happening.”</p><p>“Oh, there’s bullshit happening?” Dave asked like bullshit happening wasn’t a constant factor of life by now. </p><p>It earns a rare snort from Karkat. “I know its war, that we need soldiers, but I’ve tried too hard to keep him from that life and I understand why Feferi and Eridan, okay it’s mostly Eridan at this point, keep insisting on letting Gamzee continue with his weapons and combat training, but after so long spent taming him down to harmless I just can’t fucking <em>stand</em> the thought of seeing him with those old fucking clubs that I know the bastard somehow snuck to earth with him, and he’s at least got the panpower left to know to keep that shit away from me so now we’re at this weird fucking stage where we dance around each other, keeping secrets we know the other won’t like, all because we were both born on opposite sides of this rebellion but stubborn enough to act like that doesn’t fucking matter when it <em>does</em>.”</p><p>Dave can picture what secrets the highblood’s keeping. He still can’t erase the sight of that subjugglator in the video wielding a pair of clubs identical to the ones he’d once seen Gamzee juggling like party favors. But he can’t imagine Karkat keeping a secret from his moirail, or Karkat keeping any type of secret for very long when it came to the other generals or the four humans who’d earned the right to be called friends. Karkat wore his heart on his sleeve. He could be tight lipped about troll stuff, sure, but surely not with Gamzee. “So what secrets are you keeping from him?” It’s only mostly a joke. </p><p>He’s surprised when Karkat answers him instead of telling him to fuck right off. “There’s only four of us who know the identity of the Sufferer’s get,” Karkat explains. “Gamzee’s not one of them, and he’s hurt by it because he thinks in some fucked up way that means we don’t trust him not to go all murder-happy on them at the first sight of red.”</p><p>Dave hisses in air through his teeth. He hasn’t thought much about the actual identity of the troll who’s hands he’s watched bleed out a shade that shouldn’t exist. “You know?” In a way he's not surprised Karkat's in the know about this. </p><p>“I do,” Karkat admits, equally rushed. “But it’s a secret of the highest order. Only Feferi, Sollux, Terezi, and myself know. Not even Eridan’s in on it and that burns his gills so fucking much you would not believe the drama he spews because of it.”</p><p>“Why the secrecy?” Dave asks.</p><p>Karkat takes a deep breath before answering. “That redblood is the only thing keeping the HIC from throwing Earth into the sun,” he says. “Until Ascension Day, we were safe because the HIC couldn’t make a move against Feferi yet, but that grace period is over now. We’re all fair game.” His voice is grim. “We’d be dead already if it wasn’t for the fact that Alternian law demands a highly public, personalized execution of whatever poor bastard’s hatched unlucky enough to bleed off-spectrum.”</p><p>Dave’s piecing it together for himself. “So the Empire has to find them first?”</p><p>“Exactly,” Karkat sighs again. “She can’t nuke the planet without first weeding out who the mutant is, which saves us from all bullshit one-hit kills and forces her to slow down and actually face us head-on.” Karkat rubs at his face, weary. “The only thing that threatens our plan to force her to do this one-on-one is a two-faced Empire traitor, a troll sympathetic or loyal still to the HIC on Earth looking to cash in on a one-way ticket to forgiveness, or a literal trained laughsassin sent by the HIC to simply snatch the redblood and thus free her to boil all life off the face of the planet without repercussion.”</p><p>It almost makes sense because alien political bullshit is a thing that just keeps happening. “So no one can ever know?”</p><p>“Never,” Karkat swears. “If anyone finds out, its death to us all.”</p><p>Dave considers this carefully. “So where do we go from here?” He asks. “What happens when the HIC’s broadcast goes public?”</p><p>“Sollux is on it,” Karkat promises. “He’ll edit it down to a more manageable length and use it to incite fury against the HIC. Hopefully it’ll even manage to make the rest of mankind see her for the tyrant she is.”</p><p>Dave knows propaganda can go both ways though. “Let me help,” he asks. “I’ll keep my name and face off it, but let me help Sollux use this for the better instead of just inadvertently terrifying the general human populace with an overwhelming display of just how helpless we are against the proof of her cruelty.”</p><p>“Done.” Karkat doesn’t even pause to consider it. “I’ll let him know.” He takes another deep breath, centers himself, then says, “Dave? Thank you.”</p><p>“No problem,” Dave answers, and when Karkat ends the call, Dave cancels his plane tickets to Atlanta and switches over to a flight to Houston. His agent will be pissed but can’t argue the fact that Dave has to keep up the appearance of being erratic and unmanageable. Him standing up his own filmcrew is exactly the kind of asshole move to stir up the controversy. They’ll get paid either way. It helps to know that this time his bullshit is leading him back home to Karkat. </p><p>The reel still plays for hours. It’s only at the end that the HIC’s message rings out, short and simple.</p><p><span class="feferi">Fan all t)(e sparks you want</span>, the tyrian text reads. <span class="feferi">A candle cannot stand against t)(e sea.</span></p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t tell anyone about his changed flight plans. Sollux is still waiting for him at the airport regardless of the fact that his new flight arrives at the ass crack of morning and that the yellow should have zero idea what he was up to. </p><p>Dave raises his eyebrows at the troll from behind his shades and Sollux shrugs, jerking his boney chin over his shoulder in a ‘follow me’ motion. Dave matches his shrug and obediently wheels his carry on behind him, one wheel squeaking as he falls into step behind the troll.</p><p>“For a celebrity, you’re not very camouflaged,” Sollux points out, one side of his lip twisted up into a grimace. </p><p>Dave looks down at himself. Shades aside, he’s very understated compared to his usual get-up. He’s even got a knit hat Terezi once gave him covering his distinctive pale hair. “It helps that my Twitter feed is programed to keep making posts about how I can’t fuckin wait to land in Atlanta in approximately four hours.”</p><p>“It helps more to walk beside a troll,” Sollux deadpans, and Dave goes quiet at the bitter truth. No one’s looking at them. There’s no paparazzi snapping pics of his face for the magazines, no lucky rabid 12 year old fans to plaster him over Snapchat. It makes a bitter taste coat his mouth.</p><p>“How’d you know I’d be here?” He asks the hacker. </p><p>Sollux has the audacity to roll his bi-colored eyes. “I bugged your phone,” he deadpans. </p><p>Dave takes the breach of privacy in stride. “You are one paranoid son of a bitch.” It’s almost a complement. The wheel on his luggage squeaks louder, jamming, until with a pop of red and blue Sollux yanks the gears straight again with psionics and keeps walking. </p><p>Dave jogs to keep up with the taller troll. Flashy mindpowers aside, his suitcase rolls easily now. “How’s Terezi?”</p><p>“Not here,” Sollux grits out, walking like he thinks he’ll be chased by cops at any moment, a breath away from running. </p><p>“How’s Karkat?” Dave asks stubbornly.</p><p>Sollux cuts a warning glance at him, sparks flashing off his twin horns. “Not here.”</p><p>Dave shuts up. It’s a tangle to get back out through airport security after Sollux sets off all of the metal detectors, twice, before he could calm down enough to avoid setting them off psionically or exploding them. </p><p>They make it out into the terminal, mixing with the crowd. “How’d you even get it here? Are you even allowed on planes with the amount of heat frying in your brain?”</p><p>Sollux grins crooked fangs. “Nope,” he says proudly, lisping his way through the words. “It’d be wriggler’s play for me to drop a plane, plus your mud hut human technology can’t stand psionic interference without shitting itself to electrical death.”</p><p>“All the more reason why DHS shouldn’t have allowed you in here,” Dave points out. </p><p>Sollux laughs, ducking his head. “They didn’t,” he says, grinning. “I do what I want.”</p><p>That part has Dave laughing too. He’s still young enough to glamorize a little harmless teenage rebellion. He immediately feels guilty and disgusted at himself after the thought because ‘little harmless teenage rebellion’ was exactly what the Empress thought of them, and Dave was dead-set to prove her wrong. </p><p>There’s a car waiting outside. Kanaya’s driving, shaking her head at him as she glares with cool jade eyes. “A little more warning would be appreciated for when you decide to go off-script like this,” she says. </p><p>Dave throws his bag in the back and slides into the seat. Sollux claims the passenger side and smirks at him for it. Dave holds his hands up. “You know me,” he jokes. “I do better off-script.”</p><p>She frowns at that but there’s a pleased gleam in her eyes. The car’s a rental, more proof of Karkat's plan to intergrate the trolls into every aspect of the world, the roof too low for her to drive without scrunching her neck down and her horns still scrape the cheap vinyl ceiling to shit. The windows are tinted for troll eyes and Dave removes his shades, safe here from the sun. Sollux and Kanaya bicker back in forth in Alternian, the clicking, buzzing growls familiar and soothing to him even if he doesn’t understand it. He can see his city out the window, a skyline of high-rises and the up thrust spears of church bellowers he’d grown up with. There’s a low-fi sounding troll track playing softly through the radio as the car winds down streets he could walk blindfolded.</p><p>He’s been away for too long. Three months seems like forever when the end of the world could be tomorrow. </p><p>The car doesn’t stray deeper into the city. A part of him’s glad. Dave has zero desire to encounter Bro probably ever again. The car drives straight to the troll’s sector. The gatemen waves them through when he recognizes Kanaya’s asymmetrical profile. Dave ducks down to keep out of sight as they drive through. The tinted windows help. </p><p>He straightens up once they leave the gatemen behind. The Texas sun is blinding and the sidewalks of the barrack-like troll warren are empty. Kanaya weaves her way through the identical 300 odd hives to her own. Most trolls either don’t drive or don’t have cars but her driveway is still packed. The vehicular clutter makes her cookie-cutter hive stand out. Dave counts at least five different motorbikes in a sideways tangle on the pavement. </p><p>“We use Kanaya’s hive as base,” Sollux explains, unclicking his seatbelt to slide his gangly limbs free of the car. “The less attention we draw to the rest of our hives, the better.”</p><p>“Why’s it yours?” Dave asks Kanaya curiously. </p><p>She dips her head. “Because I offered it,” she said, then shot a sly grimace at Sollux. “As well as because I keep my hive the most presentable to company.”</p><p>The subtle dig does not go unnoticed. Sollux frowns. “Are you calling me a slob?”</p><p>“I’m just saying that you have a habit of tracking honey onto the carpet,” She points out, and Dave chokes back a grin. He puts his shades back on as he opens the door, squinting into the bright sun. </p><p>Vriska’s out front. She leans against the porch frame, metal arm glinting even in the shade. There’s a fresh streak of blue dyed in her wild hair and eight red-painted dots on the artificially darkened glass over her missing eye. She’s scowling at Dave before he can even greet her. “The fuck’d you bring this one for?”</p><p>Dave blows a kiss at her. “Come on, y’all know you can’t start this party without me.”</p><p>The insulting kiss makes her bare teeth at him and Dave smirks back. She smolders, hissing, and only then does Dave notice the blue sword buckled at her hip.</p><p>He stops walking. Kanaya looks guilty but Sollux looks simply annoyed. Dave asks, loudly. “What is this? A shitty murder attempt? Don’t I at least deserve to be driven out into the wilderness first? I’m telling you, my body will be a bitch to get rid of.” It is for sure a joke. </p><p>Vriska is the one who laughs the answer at him, fangs bared. “You fucking wish,” she scowls. “Didn’t you see the hag bitch’s colorful promise to murder us all?” It's mocking, tongue between her slim teeth. “This is the part where we figure out how to fuck her over for it.”</p><p>“As eloquent as always,” Kanaya mutters beneath her breath. Dave’s sure that Vriska catches it too but the other troll does nothing but step aside to let them pass, jauntily holding open the hive door for them, half dare, half challenge. Dave steps through without hesitation. </p><p>Inside its dimly lit. There’s houseplants everywhere. A fat ginger cat hisses at him from the windowsill, something that used to be blue yarn shredded at its claws. Kanaya shakes her head at the cat. “Don’t mind that,” she says, clucking her tongue. “I’m watching it for Nepeta.” A second cat appears from around the corner, this one white with black patches. It beelines for them, tail raised and purring. </p><p>Sollux blinks at the cat now rubbing against his leg with faint distaste. “All of them?” He asks, sounding horrified. </p><p>Kanaya sighs. “All of them,” she confirms sadly. </p><p>Dave wonders how many cats the various houseplants are hiding. Jesus, it’s a jungle in here. </p><p>Vriska slams the door behind herself and stomps in, boots clacking loud enough across the floor to chase another cat out of hiding. Her voice is already bitchy. “I <em>told</em> you that you should have said no! Watching all that crazy girl’s meowbeasts was not your job.”</p><p>There’s fondness in the look Kanaya gives the cerulean, but she still tutters patiently. “Making Nepeta comfortable enough to leave for her task was my responsibility as her friend.” It sounds like an old argument.</p><p>Vriska rolls her eye. “Fuck friends,” she replies. </p><p>Dave looks down to where the black and white cat is happily introducing itself with a few head-butts to his ankle. He bends down to pet it. “Why’d she leave?”</p><p>No one answers. The silence is only broken by another cat (Forth? Fifth?) loudly meowing from the next room. Dave raises his eyebrows.</p><p>Sollux shrugs. “Ask Karkat,” he offers, and the conversation moves along. Dave doesn’t ask about Nepeta again, but he puts together two and two enough to recognize Equius’ bike out front and files the info away to pester Karkat about later tonight. </p><p>The living room is Kanaya all over, clean angles, houseplants in cute pots, and abstract art on the walls that might actually be embroidery patterns. But the small room in the back off the side of the laundry area she bundles them into is all Sollux.  The steel door is disguised behind a wall panel that slides back with a knock. The walls are made of monitors scrapped together in haphazard ways. Wires snake across the floor and the air is humming. Several pieces of technology are distinctly alien in form, clearly illegal under the ban that doxed Alternian technology. </p><p>Inside is a troll Dave’s never seen before but recognizes at once. Only a handful of seadwellers came to earth and out of them only one was high enough to be just a drop below the sheer royalty of Feferi’s tyrian pink. </p><p>Eridan considers Dave coolly for a moment. He nods slowly to himself, appraising, then asks something to Sollux in Alternian. The hacker spits back something acidic and shoves his way past the seadweller to begin typing full-speed on keys that aren’t labelled in any language, growling under his breath. </p><p>“Ignore them,” Kanaya helpfully advises. She takes a seat at the table that’s crammed into the center of the room. There’s too many mismatched chairs crowded around the surface but aside from Kanaya’s and the one Eridan’s lurking in they’re all empty. </p><p>Dave takes a seat across from the trolls. There’s lines of gibberish flashing past the screen Sollux has his eyes glued too and Eridan’s still growling at him in Alternian. There’s enough insults in it for Dave to get the gist. </p><p>Vriska hovers in the doorway, foot tapping with impatience. </p><p>“Are we waiting on anyone else?” Dave asks, checking his Twitter feed. It’s not loading and Dave suspects that Sollux has a blocker over this particular room. </p><p>“No,” Vriska responds, dismissive. “This isn’t some war meeting you’ve been invited to. It’s a normal Tuesday for insane workaholic insomniacs who don’t know when to give up and flip the fucking board.”</p><p>“I don’t see your ass being helpful,” Sollux snaps back at her without looking up from the screens. Eridan snorts, pleased. Sollux ignores him. </p><p>Kanaya takes pity on him. “We’re waiting for nightfall,” she explains. “You can go to Karkat then. He’s almost certainly still asleep right now.”</p><p>Dave didn’t question the long night the trolls had just endured. “I’ll stay out of sight,” he swears. </p><p>Sollux growls at him. “No, you’re staying here with me,” he orders. “Karkat told me you wanted to help assemble a response to the HIC’s video that wouldn’t scare the shit out of mankind.”</p><p>Dave jumps at the chance to help. He nods. “Just say what you need me to do.”</p><p>“Firstly, all of you can fuck right off,” Sollux doesn’t pick his head up or slow down his insane typing. The speed of it is actually impressive. “Dave’s the only exception. Everyone else--- go! No fucking distractions while I’m working. That goes double for you, fishface.”</p><p>Eridan’s gills purple with anger, fins flaring, but Vriska snaps her fingers at him, hurrying him along. “Come on,” she complains. “Let’s go blow something up. I’m feeling destructive.”</p><p>Eridan perks up at that and Kanaya scowls. “Try not to cause property damage to my hive,” she frowns, stern. “I’d hate to have to maim the pair of you for it.”</p><p>Dave’s betting that’s a joke because Vriska laughs, pleased, and succeeds in bullying the sea troll out the door. Kanaya follows after them, shaking her head. </p><p>Sollux types in silence for many minutes, until Dave gets fidgety waiting. Dave’s knee begins to bounce under the table. Somehow, the speed of Sollux’s typing increases. </p><p>Finally Sollux growls, not one of the fake growls that Dave hears from Karkat on a daily basis but a real one that’s nothing but threat and menace which rattles down his spine. Sollux is thankfully not growling at him; the hacker’s bi-colored eyes are studying a screenshot from the Empress’ response, a shot of Mallek’s blood-streaked face that’s oddly artistic. His features are blurred beneath the blood, casting sharp shadows across the planes of his face, and the glint from his piercings shine in the low light. His eyes are the only things in true focus, defiant and burning. It’s a powerful image for all that its tragic. </p><p>Sollux shoves himself back from the monitor, still grumbling to himself. Dave wonders how well the yellow knew the troll who’d volunteered to die. How well he knew all of them. There’s sparks jumping from the ends of his twin horns and the air smells like ozone with the force of his anger. Sollux stares him down, motioning at the screen with urgency. “Show me,” he demands, almost pleads. “Show me where the line is.”</p><p>Dave stands and moves closer to the central screen. There’s not a lick of anything English about the rigged setup and the actual modem has fucking legs like it’s about to get up and crawl away if he tries to mess with it. But none of that matters, because that’s not what the yellow’s asking him. Dave’s not here to figure out computer shit, and that still image of Mallek’s face is the one that has Sollux gritting his fangs. </p><p>“It’s a good scene,” Dave unwillingly admits, studying the shot like he would have one of his own. “The angle’s good. Lighting is intense but not enough to wash out the colors, it’s engaging, draws the eye and gets the point across without getting lost in the gore.” Sollux is staring at him like he’s memorizing every word he says. Dave goes on. “You want to know how to use this? To provoke the right response in both humans and trolls without causing mass panic?”</p><p>“Yes,” Sollux says it like it’s simple, like it should be obvious even if it’s frustrating him to no end. Like if he plugs in the right combination of zeros and ones this problem will fix itself, but people are much messier than code. Less predictable. More volatile. </p><p>“Do you want to martyr him?” Dave asks. Mallek’s eyes stare into him from the screen. </p><p>“We don’t need a martyr,” Sollux says flatly. “That’s the last thing we fucking need.”</p><p>“It might be useful,” Dave presses, but Sollux lifts his lips in a hiss.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Dave doesn’t argue. “Then find me shots of all of them, plus Alternia itself. The culled ones too, not just those with the Red Cult tats.”</p><p>Sollux goes back to hunting for the right images, Dave at his shoulder to point out the ones he needs. He’s already got the right idea in his mind—and bringing it to life onscreen was his sole talent in life. He gets ahold of the quote from the second marked troll that prompted the HIC’s only line of dialog in the spiel, edits it into the rallying cry he needs it to be, and moves on to the trolls on earth. Overhead drone shots of troll sectors like this one’s hives, short clips of trolls in everyday activities, in class and out, alone and with humans too, everything mixing together until the end result is an even split between them both. He juxtapositions the film with the stills of the Empire’s cruelty, callbacks from Feferi’s original manifesto, a shit ton of tyrian that bleeds into the scarlet of the Red Cult’s insignia. Dave doesn’t feel the day passing. Sollux doesn’t interrupt him once, instantly making the technology at his hands do exactly as Dave describes. Sollux is a perfectionist who questions ever choice Dave makes, argues for every second of screen time, edits the living hell out of each shot and their order and composition. It’s clear the troll knows computers but not cinematography. He’s not trying to be contrary—he’s trying to <em>learn</em>, to see this issue through Dave’s eyes and tackle how best to improve upon Dave’s vision to better help their cause. But he never once questions Dave’s method, never butts heads just for show. Sollux may be as friendly as a lit stick of dynamite but it’s clear he respects Dave and trusts him to make the right calls. </p><p>It’s slow going. Dave keeps it short as a movie trailer teaser, drafts the response he needs Feferi to say on camera which Sollux immediately approves of and pesters the highblood for prompt footage of. </p><p>The end result is shockingly raw. He doesn’t want it perfect. He doesn’t need it to be so strangled out and sterile that it’s obvious it’s overdone and scripted. He needs it to be real. True. Beautiful and brutal all at once, just like the trolls. </p><p>When Sollux plays the final product through for the first time, he goes silent. He doesn’t interrupt or point anything out that needs fixing, and when the screen goes black he sighs, turns to Dave one final time. “Are you sure about this?”</p><p>Dave is. “Send it up the line,” he orders.</p><p>Sollux sends the draft to the rest of the twelve then slumps in his chair, rubbing at the bags under his eyes. “Done.”</p><p>Dave lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. It’s not from relief. The stress will eat away at him regardless, but it’s done now. “I know I make a lot of bullshit for the screen,” Dave says, fingers tapping at his leg. “But I can damn sure make some revolutionary shit as well.”</p><p>Sollux laughs weakly, worn out. His spine pops at every junction when he straightens up from where he’s been hunching over his keyboard for hours. “Damn you, Dave,” he complains. “You outplayed me. Karkat was right—you do know your shit. There’s more than shitty memes locked in your pan after all.”</p><p>It’s an unexpectedly sincere complement from a troll he knows is more snarl than smile. He nods his head, equally solemn. “Thanks,” he replies. “But I couldn’t have done it without you.”</p><p>Sollux stands up. “I’m going to go find a couch not covered in earth meowpests and pass the fuck out,” he says, yawning. “Wake me at nightfall when shit starts to happen.”</p><p>“Will do,” Dave promises, and the yellow leaves him with one final warning not to touch his shit or else it’ll bite off his fingers. From looking at the hacker’s distinctly buggy setup, it might be a true threat. There's teeth hiding below the keyboard. </p><p>Dave fucks around on Twitter in the kitchen for a while to escape the internet stranglehold Sollux has over the back room, but it’s already close to six. Sollux’s powernap won’t be more than a wink of rest today. There’s a shitstorm brewing in Atlanta that has his name on it but that can’t touch him here. The film he went through today is beyond measure the worth of whatever SBAHJ shit he’d have done over there. He’s intentionally vague about where he is since it’s clearly not Atlanta, but someone states his L.A. apartment is empty, fucking paparazzi scum, so he spins a reel about flying to Cancun for strippers and hard drugs. The selfie he posts is clearly postmarked from New York. The Empire State Building is in the background. The good thing about believably being anywhere is that he can be nowhere in peace. No one would suspect he’s hiding out in the troll sector of his home city. </p><p>Texas sunsets are always beautiful, big as the sky and stretching from the horizons up to the edge of the atmosphere. The colors are rather dull tonight with the city smog but as stars begin to shine, the hives around him start to wake up. </p><p>Kanaya meets him at the door, the curtains tightly drawn. Vriska and Eridan are going at it in the yard with swords. They’ve drawn in quite the crowd from the neighborhood, and the other trolls watching are taking bets on the winner. Vriska’s hooked sword is an even match for whatever straight-bladed alien bullshit the seadweller’s wielding, but its obvious Eridan is outmatched. He’s sweating, struggling to keep pace and keep his footing as Vriska harries at him, toying. </p><p>“Training?” Dave asks, one eyebrow raised. </p><p>“It was this or bombs,” Kanaya was frowning at the pair of them out in the yard. “I think it’s the least destructive option.”</p><p>“Not unless you’re Eridan,” Dave points out, and outside the highblood slips up, overreaches, and Vriska shows no mercy. Eridan’s sent reeling from a slap with the flat of her sword, a heavy enough blow to nearly drop him. He spits out violet and squares his stance stubbornly, and Vriska lunges again. The crowd cheers. The ringing clash of metal on metal is ugly and screeching but there’s a rhythm to it, a pace, a beat all its own. </p><p>“Eridan was once a hopeless swordsman,” Kanaya tells him as the highblood gets his ass kicked. “He’s still too used to fighting ranged even with all of his recent improvements. Close combat isn’t his forte, and challenging Vriska to a bladematch was very stupid of him.”</p><p>“Is she the best you’ve got?” Dave questions curiously. The cerulean made her fighting seem easy, effortless. Her beauty with a sword was an art form unfamiliar to him, but one the trolls had spent their lifetimes crafting. Dave might know how to throw a mean punch, but weapons? Uncharted territory. </p><p>“For long blades, perhaps,” Kanaya purses her lips thoughtfully. “But none of us can outshoot Eridan in either speed or accuracy. He’s a natural hatched sniper.”</p><p>It’s a layer to the highblood he hadn’t known, another piece to the trolls he hadn’t really considered. Human teens weren’t nearly so combat ready, and even with Dave’s past experience in asskickings he’d never approached anything on this level of badassery. </p><p>Outside the match is called when Vriska pins Eridan to the dirt with her blade at his throat, one foot firmly planted on his chest. He yields with slightly bitter grace, but grins when Vriska extends her metal arm to help pull him up. The watching trolls cheer and congratulate each other and the combatants, pleased with impromptu display. </p><p>“They’ve made a scene now,” Kanaya frowns, shaking her head. “I’ll have to wait to sneak you out the back once they’ve dispersed.”</p><p>“Fine by me,” Dave answers, still watching them as Vriska makes a rakish bow to the assembled trolls, sword still in hand. She’s quite the sight. Dave isn’t one to see beauty in aggression; he had that beat out of him long ago, but trolls always seem to infect him with how violence doesn’t equal outright evil. Vriska might have just beat the living shit out of Eridan, but for comradery, progress. Dave watches them joke and laugh together, going slowly over the places where Eridan’s bladework wasn’t strong enough to hold her off, all the traps she’d set he’d blundered right into. They’re grinning. It’s a language he doesn’t speak, but like native Alternian, he’s getting the hang of it. </p><p>They come back into the hive, dirty, sweaty, and just a little bit bloody. Kanaya stomps her foot at them before they can track yard across her floors. “And what have we learned?” She asks, sarcastic. </p><p>Eridan’s still smiling, loose and joyful even with a purple shiner forming around his eye. “I’ve learned that next time, I’ll challenge Vriska when there’s less eyes around to watch me get my ass kicked.” The highblood’s voice is a shock. It’s wavering, warbly, heavily accented in a way Dave hasn’t heard yet. The syllables drag together in odd ways, oddly sonorous as opposed to buggy like most accented trolls sound like. He nods in Dave’s direction. “So where’s that pissblood at now? Finished masturbating to his bees yet?”</p><p>There’s a snarl from the next room over before Dave could reply, and a flash of red and blue leaves the air crispy. “MotherFUCKER!” Sollux snarls, awake and enraged, but it’s a fake snarl. Eridan strides off in the direction of the couch Sollux had secured from the cats, cracking his knuckles. Dave figures there’s something black going on between the pair of them and doesn’t question it. </p><p>Kanaya rolls her eyes as Vriska hoots and darts after them. “Five boonbucks on the lowblood!”</p><p>“Fuck you!” Eridan hollers back at her, insulted. Vriska cackles as psionics snap and pop through the air. </p><p>“I swear, it’s like lodging a pack of rabid cholerbears,” Kanaya says, but there’s still that hint of fondness buried there. She puts her hands on her hips, whispering conspiratorially. “I’d almost prefer the daywalkers. I’m sure they’d be more considerate hiveguests.”</p><p>Dave laughs at that, nodding. “It’s a miracle you were able to herd them in the right direction for long enough to make it off planet.”</p><p>Kanaya shakes her head, eyes alight with mischief. “That was all Karkat’s doing,” she tells him. “He led the charge. We just followed behind him.” She holds the backdoor open as Dave pulls his knit cap down lower over his hornless head to hide his profile. </p><p>They make it to the rental car without alarm and the drive over to Karkat’s nondescript hive is short. The grass out front is dead and uncut but there’s flowers in the windowsill. Kanaya cuts the car off and stares at the silent hive. “Dave?” She asks. “When you surprise Karkat with your presence in a moment, could you do me a slight favor?” She’s studying the hive with a frown, a thin crease between her jade eyes. </p><p>“What is it?” Dave asks. </p><p>“Don’t let him evade you,” She states, and she doesn’t elaborate. Dave sprints to the front door of the hive and Kanaya drives away as he pounds on the door. It’s locked and the sound is echoing, but there’s Alternian screeching at him from the other side as Karkat unlocks it, loud and brash. </p><p>The instant that the troll catches sight of him is priceless. Mouth open, eyes wide, utterly stunned.</p><p>“Yo,” Dave says, hands in his pockets. “Invite me in?”	</p><p>The shock quickly gives way to joy. “Dave!” Karkat cries, then his expression clouds, eyes blown wide. “Oh shit, Dave.”</p><p>Dave pulls his hands out if his pockets into a ‘ta-da’ movement. “Yep,” he confirms. “It’s me.”</p><p>Karkat pulls him into the hive before the neighbors can see, locks five different locks behind them. It’s been a while since Dave has been inside here, but the place is mostly unchanged. Movie posters adorn the walls. There’s a disguised gaming rig that’s actually one of Sollux’s setups in the corner. It doesn’t look like much, not like the hive of a troll general, and that’s the whole point of it. </p><p>But Karkat’s still looking at him as he mumbles in Alternian under his breath. “Did anyone see you?” He demands. </p><p>“No,” Dave swears, hands up. “Karkat, it’s okay. Sollux and Kanaya smuggled me in themselves. Word’s not getting out.”</p><p>“But Atlanta?” Karkat’s confused. “I thought that—”</p><p>Dave interrupts. “This was more important.”</p><p>Karkat shuts up. He looks good... mostly. Karkat's hair is messy and his baggy sweater hangs off him. He's wearing his usual blank black attire with knit fingerless gloves that have Kanaya's hatchsign embrodered at the wrist in neat jade thread. The troll’s eyes look watery, the yellows cloudy, but Dave doesn’t blame him. It’s been one hell of a 48 hour span for him, and all the dead kids he had a hand in ending must have contributed to the ever-present bags under his eyes. </p><p>“Check you inbox,” Dave tells him. “Sollux sent you something.”</p><p>Karkat opens his mouth, closes it, then goes over to the computer stand and boots up his monitor. Dave follows him like a shadow. </p><p>“Three fucking months, and then you show up on my hivestep without a word?” Karkat grouches, keying in his passcode. “I know I was a fucking mess last night, Dave, but I’m not so fragile that you need to drop everything like I’m some kind of wriggler who can’t handle his own shit.”</p><p>Dave clucks his tongue and frowns. “Not why I’m here, actually,” He replies. “You’re not the only troll in Houston who needed a little bit of Dave magic to make things work.”</p><p>Karkat scoffs and rolls his eyes, but freezes when he sees the file Sollux sent him. “Is this what I think it is?” He asks, voice low.</p><p>“Open it,” Dave says, and Karkat obeys. </p><p>The troll watches the video in silence, hands clenched into fists. The video is everything Dave’s spent the last twelve hours working on and each second of it he’s got memorized but it still hits him deep in the gut. Karkat is as absorbed in it as he is with everything he watches—eyes unblinking, drinking it in like he’s starved for it. He looks sick, wondrous, grudgingly approving, and horrified in equal measure. By the time the camera shifts from the image of their bombed-out home world and focuses down on a peaceful Earth, zooming all the way up to a few-second clip of Feferi decked out in her Heiress’ jumpsuit, Karkat’s awestruck. This time the gold and the jewelry is missing. She’s less princess and more soldier, chin raised in challenge. Behind her flies the flag of her new republic, red on black. She’s regal and composed with every motion dripping with righteous anger. She speaks in Alternian but Dave’s the one who wrote these words; he doesn’t need a translation. </p><p>“Fire only grows stronger,” she says. “Divide us and we keep spreading. Unite us and we grow. Some fires burn eternal.” The 69 insignia pinned to her chest glows with bright flame. She stares directly into the camera. “You will never put us out.”</p><p>The screen clicks off as the video ends. Karkat rubs at his eyes, blinking at the screen. “You did this?”</p><p>“Sollux helped,” Dave admits, suddenly nervous about what Karkat thinks of the video. It’s on a completely different level from the propaganda he’s been churning out for the trolls so far. It has as much in common with his comics as a needle jab has kin to a drone strike. It’s not meant to be subtle. </p><p>Karkat leans back in his chair, face carefully blank. “The glowing cuffs at the end,” he asks. “With all of the fire motifs, was that your idea or Sollux’s?”</p><p>Dave blanks. “Cuffs?”</p><p>Karkat gives him a disbelieving look and taps at his chest where Feferi had worn the sign of the Red Cult. “That hatchsign? The insignia of the entire rebellion?”</p><p>The prompting doesn’t stir recognition in Dave. He shrugs, not getting it. </p><p>Karkat sighs, exasperated. “They’re fucking handcuffs, moron.”</p><p>A beat passes. “Oh, kinky,” Dave says. </p><p>Karkat swats at him. “No! Not kinky!” He glares until Dave quiets back down, then something sad crosses his gaze. “You didn’t know?”</p><p>Dave thinks it through slowly. “The symbol of the rebellion is a pair of handcuffs?” It’s another thing that doesn’t make sense. He’s missing context here and he hates the feeling of being stupidly human. </p><p>“Not just frondlocks,” Karkat explains. “The exact ones the HIC tortured the Sufferer to death in. The insignia was originally gray during the Sufferer’s first rebellion; they shifted to the red they are now after the Empire heated them to near-lava and strung him up for execution.”</p><p>The poetic symmetry is all the sweeter when it’s completely accidental. “No,” Dave admits. “I didn’t know that.” But know that he knows, he’s interested. Scenic alliteration like that is important to know beforehand when he’s building up the bellows of a young war. “I just thought the fire repetition was fitting with all of the HIC’s water and ocean imagery since they’re both natural opposing opposites and tend to lean towards each side of the troll population we’re trying to convince to stay with or join us. Plus fire looks sick as hell. Flames of revolution and all that shit.” It’s hard to explain the way his mind works. For him the ideas flow into the right shapes in abstract ways that he can’t put to words in a way that makes sense spoken out loud. </p><p>“So Sollux is just a bastard then,” Karkat looks considering. He starts the reel over, watching it from the top. </p><p>“Should he have stopped me?” Dave questioned if he’d crossed some cultural taboo he was unaware of. </p><p>Karkat hesitates. “No,” he says slowly. He’s frowning. “I don’t like it but I can see that the two of you, even by total accident, are on the right track.”</p><p>“Maybe it wasn’t by accident then,” Dave argues. Karkat cuts a look at him but Dave runs on. “If I’m going to be involved in drafting these videos for the rebellion, then I need to know background shit like this to avoid fucking up.”</p><p>“You didn’t fuck up,” Karkat reassures him. “Sollux knew this was the right angle and your gut feeling about it was right even if you didn’t have all the details.”</p><p>Dave grits his teeth. He doesn’t like being talked around from Hollywood bigshots who think he’s a dumb hick the instant they hear his Texan accent and the evasive bullshit hits different when it’s from Karkat. “So tell me the details and I’ll make it better next time.”</p><p>Karkat sucks his lip in, gnawing at it how he does when he’s thinking hard, but he relents quickly. “It’s not a secret, I guess,” he starts. “I just have my personal fucking bullshit to complicate the matter, but every troll in the Red Cult already knows everything about the first war.”</p><p>Dave’s heard of the first time Alternians attempted a coup against the Empress, vaguely, and he’s more than ready for a history lesson. He rests his chin in his hands, attentive. “Explain it to me like I don’t know jack shit about trolls.”</p><p>“Understood.” Karkat types at his screen, pulling up files of slanting alien text. “Sollux has a written timeline on here somewhere but that’s not exactly useful when none of its in English.” He grumbles under his breath as he hunts for the right file, then smacks a clawtip to a line on the screen. “Here,” he says. “About 20,000 of your earth years ago, the Sufferer was hatched on planet as an off-spectrum mutant. This is only important because the Hemospectrum declares all off-spectrum trolls cullbait from their unlucky first breath. The Sufferer, who’s actual name has been lost, instead of being culled on sight was found by a sympathetic jadeblood who smuggled him as a wriggler out of the brooding caverns." He blinks at Dave to make sure he's listening, then says, "I’m abridging the shit out of this for you by the way. Details can come later; right now you’re getting the big picture.”</p><p>Dave nods. He can work with the big picture. “Okay. The Suffer was born and smuggled out of the… wait, what the fuck is a brooding cavern?”</p><p>“Not important right now,” Karkat moves ahead with the lesson without pause, in full education mode. “The jadeblood who abandoned her station and committed treason by letting him live was known as the Dolorosa. She became his lusus and raised the wriggler as his guardian, even though that’s pretty hiveshit in and of itself." There's a lot of words here Dave doesn't know; he makes a list to ask Terezi about later.</p><p>Karkat goes on. "Basically, she raises this mutant wriggler up and against every conceivable odd stacked against them, the guy actually makes it to his adult pupation. But the whole time this wriggler is growing up, he’s going around the land, seeing how trolls across the Hemospectrum are suffering under the Empire’s oppression." HIs face is displaying a complicated emotioin that dave can't quite name, but exasperation is there for sure. And regret. "This fucking guy actually formed a plan for how to change troll society as a whole, which I’m not sure is brave or spectacularly stupid. He was going up and down the planet openly as a mutant, literally walking around showing random trolls his bloodcaste death sentence and preaching about how trolls shouldn’t be divided by blood color anymore. And its no wonder he got killed for it!” Karkat’s getting angrier and angrier as he speaks. His claws scratch deep into the surface of his computer desk. “This <em>one guy</em> was arrogant enough to think he could change the fucking world all because his genetic sequence was a blip on the mothergrub’s radar that somehow escaped detection for long enough to win over a jadeblood who just so happened to decide to lusus him herself. The whole story reads as this hiveshit chain of happenstance bullshit that only ever gets fucking worse!" Karkat could never take his heart out what he thinks, and what he thinks comes right back out his mouth. The troll is fuming. "The Sufferer’s a laughingstock. The people hate him! They tried to murder him on sight multiple times, except that by now he’s gained the acquaintance of a powerful psionic he’d apparently freed from the Helming line and some half-feral oliveblood so ostracized from society as a whole that she probably had zero idea why they were fighting off fucking laughsassins every night!”</p><p>Dave’s paying the utmost attention but he feels like there’s still things he’s missing. He can't make this image of the troll's first icon of change line up with the story Karkat is telling him. “So they hated him?”</p><p>“Yeah, they fucking did,” Karkat snorts a laugh. It’s not an amused sound. It’s bitter and stinging. The hand he’s pointing at the screen trembles. “And they killed him horrifically for being stupid enough to talk treason. If my culture made sense that would have been the end of it, except that his public execution was apparently <em>so fucking terrible </em>it somehow inspired such awe in the crowd of onlookers that they would not shut up about it! The guy was preaching equality and forgiveness even as they murdered him and it left such an impression on the watchers, who remember fucking hated him the whole time anyway, that somehow they started the cult that stayed underground for another thousand or so years until the Summoner and Mindfang hatched the failed plan to jumpstart the first revolution that got all adult trolls banned from Alternia and stranded our species in the stars at the wrath of the HIC for all of the sweeps since then.”</p><p>This part he knows. Divide and Conquer. The legions of disgruntled trolls couldn't come together in rebellion if they were too busy being thousands of lightyears apart. Plus the decision freed the subsequent troll generations from what the Empire considered subversive philosophies like the Red Cult. The HIC might have been a bitch, but warlords don't stay in power for countless centuries by not knowing how to stratigize. </p><p>“So that was the first failed war,” Karkat explains. “A revolt that made everything so much worse and got hundreds of thousands of trolls killed for very little reason. It was a failed attempt from the start. Hopeless.” He grits his fangs, eyes blazing. “So I've got to be better this time. I’ve got to make sure that this time, we fight a war that’s <em>worth</em> something, a war that’s more than a footnote in a long, bloody history of violence without end.”</p><p>Dave’s thinking hard. “So why didn’t you agree with the burning cuffs?” He asks softly. “Wouldn’t that image strike home with trolls based on it’s history?”</p><p>“It does,” Karkat agrees, but he’s not looking at Dave anymore. His eyes are on the blank desk. “It’s a good image. Strong. Sends a clear message. Exactly what we need.” HIs voice is too clipped and short for Dave to beleive its not still bothering him.</p><p>“But?” Dave prompts the question, gentle and slow.</p><p>Karkat sighs. “But I don’t like glorifying the Sufferer,” he admits the fact like its shameful. “He was only ever one guy with a crazy idea who got his ass killed in the end.”</p><p>“Maybe so, but he basically sounds like troll Jesus, complete with his own now-symbolic torture device thrown in for good measure.” Dave nods. “I see why the Cult holds him in such high regard.”</p><p>Karkat shakes his head. “They shouldn’t,” he insists. “He might have been the spark that started it all, but he never wielded the flame himself. He died before he ever saw Alternia change.”</p><p>“But he was the start,” Dave reminds the troll. “That makes us the end.”</p><p>Karkat looks at him and it’s that same fierce, knowing look he saw all those years ago. Karkat’s angry, all but vibrating from the force of his tightly compressed rage at all times, and that anger is explosive when he lets it out but right now he’s quiet, claws digging into the meat of his palms to ground himself, gray eyes flinty. “I’ll make us the end,” he swears. “We either win this fight and save my entire fucking species, plus earth of course, or we all die trying.” He looks back at the computer screen, at where Dave’s video is waiting for the final word before Sollux shoots it out over the global airways and launches it back up into the void of Deep Space, a banner of unfurled challenge waved directly at the might of the Alternian Empire. “We can use this,” he promises. “<em>I</em> can use this. I can make this work.”</p><p>When Dave hesitantly reaches out and puts his arm around the shorter troll’s shoulders, Karkat leans into him. They don’t say anything. They don’t pull away. </p><p>“When do you leave?” Karkat’s voice is quiet.</p><p>So is Dave’s answer. “Soon. Tomorrow maybe. As soon as Sollux can smuggle me back onto a plane.” Karkat nods and Dave feels him press himself closer for just a moment. Dave’s throat is tight. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you again.” There’s phone calls, Pesterchum, but it’s not the same. The distance between L.A and Houston, the distance between the person he was and the one Feferi’s rebellion needed him to be has never felt so vast. </p><p>Karkat shifts in his arms, leaning closer before pulling away. With how dark the room was the only light is the computer screen that’s reflecting red off his eyes, making them glitter wetly. Dave’s side is colder with the troll gone, but he straightens back up, shoulders squared.</p><p>The words are an order. “When you get back,” Karkat says. “You need to start thinking about how to influence the rest of mankind. They’ll flip shit for sure once this video gets out and we can’t afford a mass panic or a rise in troll hate crimes.”</p><p>“I know,” Dave says. </p><p>Karkat’s still talking. “But you can’t make it obvious you’re on our side. That’ll only blacklist you further and even you can only handle so much controversy before people get fed up with it and decide you’re nothing but an asshole who likes shit to stir.” </p><p>“I know,” Dave says. </p><p>Karkat rubs at his face with his bare knuckles. He looks exhausted. “See Terezi before you leave,” he suggests. “Otherwise she’ll gut us both and cackle about it over our bloated corpses.”</p><p>“Will do,” Dave swears. For all of the sorrow currently curling in his heart, the thought of Terezi’s burnt red gaze and whipcrack of a mind is a balm. He’s missed her too. She was the troll who taught him how to love these weird bug aliens back when he wasn’t worth dogshit left baked on the sidewalk. “I’ve missed her like hell.”</p><p>The words are almost there but he holds them back. Karkat nods with a click in his throat and a careful distance between them. “Call me when you get back to L.A,” he says, sitting down at his husktop desk. “I know you need sleep after all you’ve done for us today.”</p><p>Dave forces a nod at the clear dismissal. There’s a lump in his throat that makes it hurt to swallow so he doesn’t use words. There’s too much going unsaid between them already. “Wake me when it’s safe to leave,” he asks, and then goes back out into the livingroom to find a safe couch to pass out on. </p><p>He dreams of everything he wishes he was brave enough to say and all of the reasons why he knows he never can. He’s only sixteen at the start of a war he’s dead-set on seeing the end of. He’s not a soldier like Eridan, he’s not fighter like Vriska. He’s not a fucking genius like Sollux either. He’s just a teen armed with art that’s meant to make a statement.</p><p>Unlike Karkat’s fabled Sufferer, he hopes it won’t get him killed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>In a way i consider this the start of the story. Act One was a prologue to get the ball rolling. This? This is where it begins.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This will be another tryptic story, but I'm trying a few new things writing-wise with it so fingers crossed everything works out as planned :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>